


Faithful Friends Who Are Dear to Us

by ms_nawilla



Series: Little Lights Stories [4]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Christmas-like holidays, Cooking, Cuddling, Dinner dates, Engineers, F/F, F/M, Festivus-like holidays, Gen, Historical Engineering, Holiday Gifts, Holiday cookies, Incomplete Tags, Lightsaber Construction (Star Wars), M/M, Making Out, Master-padawan matchmaking, Origami, Party food!, Playing in the Snow, Puppets, Snow telekinesis, Social Anxiety, Solstice-like holidays, Telekinesis, Telekinetic Games, Tooka Cats (Star Wars), Ugly Christmas Sweaters (in space), Yoda can now go on my tree, gift-giving, holiday parties, inspired by my quest for Star Wars tree ornaments, meatballs!, puppet shows, there are xmas carols linked for fun but are not essential to the story, tree ornaments
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 46,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28329732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ms_nawilla/pseuds/ms_nawilla
Summary: A (belated) Festivus gift to the readers ofAll The Little Lightsthat I'm working on since I have a few days off.  Yes, the Jedi are celebrating a vaguely Christmas-like holiday, but it is focusing on traditions more consistent with the pagan roots that predate Christianity: people celebrating together during the darkest days of the year in hopes of the warmer days to come.  We could all use some of that after what 2020 (and the COVID-19 pandemic) has been like.This was also inspired by my shopping for Star Wars Hallmark ornaments.  I didn't put up the tree this year, but darn it, next year I have a Yoda ornament waiting to be hung.This is supposed to be a very silly fic, but it is in the same universe of ATLL.Please note the tags are incomplete because there may be a few of you that decided to read the monster that isAll the Little Lightsover the holiday, and I didn't want to spoil you.  Complete tags will be in the next story.  That being said, if you haven't read ATLL in it's monsterous entirety, this fic is not going to make any sense to you, and will certainly spoil the ending.Happy Holidays everyone, and let's hope we all get vaccinated soon.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Friends, Cin Drallig & Original Characters, Master Silvanus/Master Bes, OC/OC, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Friends, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Original Character(s), Qui-Gon Jinn & Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn/Tahl (Star Wars)
Series: Little Lights Stories [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736215
Comments: 171
Kudos: 139





	1. It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like a Generic Winter Solstice Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> You are strongly urged to read _All the Little Lights_ before reading this fic.
> 
> The fic title is from _Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas_ by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane, and originally released by Judy Garland.
> 
> Here is a nice version from Michael Buble. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-m--gZZ-Tdo
> 
> The chapter title is from _It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas_ by Meredith Wilson.
> 
> Here is a the classic version from Perry Como.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hflKegTHAkg

“Good morning, Coruscant, and we’re back with Brin Quel and Zarra Chin!” 

The camera panned over the studio to the newsdesk, centering on a male Twilek with a million-credit smile and a human woman with an unnaturally stiff and vibrant hairstyle. 

“And a very fine morning it is,” Brin grinned at the camera, then glanced in the direction of the meteorologist, a Bothan who sported a coat styled into tight curls. 

“It sure is, Brin. The weather is fine, it’s just seasonally cool enough to give you a craving for hot drinks as we head toward the Winter Solstice, and according to the Meteorology Control Office, we might even get a sprinkling of snow.” 

“Snow, Nen? Really?” Zarra asked. “Is that safe?” 

“Oh, it’s very well-regulated,” Nen assured the audience. “We expect minimal accumulation, particularly in the lower levels. And remember kids, the particulate pollution levels are high this week, so _don’t eat the snow_!” 

“Ew.” Brin’s smile remained spectacular. “Speaking of the Winter Solstice, it’s almost time for the Nights of Light and Giving Days.” 

“You are so right, Brin,” Zarra replied. “The First Night of Light starts tonight, and buildings all over the district will be adorned in colored lights. Several local businesses will be offering treats for sale for the holiday, there will be concerts in the plazas, and several air car services will be offering evening tours through the district to enjoy the lights.” 

“I took my girls last year, it’s always quite a show.” 

“It sure is, Brin. And this weekend there will also be the annual light show on the ceiling of the Senate, if you’re lucky enough to have tickets.” 

“Oh, that’s too rich for my blood, Zarra. Are these more affordable options for the locals?” 

“Of course there are, Brin. The A&T has a large selection of seasonal productions, the casinos in the G-Red are offering holiday buffets suited to a variety of budgets and palates, and various institutions in the community including the universities, the embassies, the museums and the cultural centers have events planned and we’ll have more details on the holonet.” Zarra grinned at the camera. 

“Speaking of local institutions, Zarra, does the Jedi Temple do anything for Nights of Light?” 

Waiting in the wings, Cin Drallig tried not to wince at the forced banter. 

“Oh my, Brin, I don’t know, but I’m sure our next guest will. We need to break for a word from our sponsors but stick around and we’ll ask the ever-knowledgeable Battlemaster Drallig!” 

The camera panned over Cin, now sitting at the far end of the anchor desk, and he hoped he didn’t look constipated. He wasn’t constipated, but apparently non-Jedi interpreted his resting face as stiff, dull, and backed up if the late-night comics were anything to go by.

“And, _cut_!” 

The anchors immediately turned to the monitors to check their appearance. Hair and makeup techs dashed in to dab powder on Brin’s lekku and coat Zarra’s hair in another layer of shellac. Cin tried not to sneeze. 

“Good to see you, Master Cin,” Brin mumbled as he contorted his face to keep it from cramping. Zarra waved, eyes tightly shut as she tried not to move her head. “Are the little Jedi looking forward to the holiday?” 

“Yes, they do tend to enjoy the Solstice festivities, even if they are more low-key in the Temple than in the community at large.” 

Zarra made a noise. Cin couldn’t tell if it was a snort of humor or if too much hair spray had gotten in her nose. “You mean they don’t get mountains of presents like Brin’s kids?” 

“No,” Cin chuckled gently. “But the padawans who are home bake them treats and the initiates are taken to a show, either the Ballet or the Symphony.” 

“That sounds nice,” Zarra grimaced as she realized the spray had also coated her face. 

“And we’re back in five, four, three, two, one.” 

“And we’re back with our favorite local Jedi, Battlemaster Cin Drallig. Tell me, Master Drallig, do the Jedi participate in the Nights of Light?” 

“Yes, Brin, they do. The Jedi tether floating lanterns to the Temple roof and tend to decorate the Terraces and balconies with colored lights. We also open the Visitor’s Hall during evening hours and have a few musical and dance performances on the Plaza during the day.” 

“Is the Jedi Children’s Choir performing?” Zarra asked. “They came and sang in the studio a few months ago.” 

“Yes, the choir is expected to participate, weather permitting. There are also performing arts clubs in the Temple itself, and some Jedi participate spontaneously, and we have invited some of the local cultural centers to participate as well. And of course, the Council always sends a knight or master to the opening ceremonies on the First Night.” 

“Oh yes, that’s my son’s favorite part,” Brin grinned. “When a real Jedi turns on a real lightsaber to cut the ribbon at the request of the mayor.” 

“Oh yes, do you know who they are sending this year, Master Drallig?” Zarra’s eyes sparkled. 

“If I’m not mistaken, they are planning to send Master Gallia and Master Yaddle this year, but they both have many duties so that may change.” 

“Of course,” Zarra nodded. “Have you ever opened the ceremony?”

“Me?” Cin chuckled lightly. “No, but I’ve attended the ceremony before when I was a padawan. Master Silvanus had me assist him a few times when he was serving.”

“Did you hear that Mann-Gel? Do we have clips of that?” 

“I hope not,” Cin tried not to scowl. 

“Not on hand,” the producer called from off camera. “But we can check before the opening.” 

“I was a rather awkward teen. That might hurt your ratings.” 

Brin chuckled heartily, but took the hint, moving on. “We’ve had some questions sent in by our viewers for you, Master Drallig, as our local Jedi representative.” 

Cin suppressed a sigh. “Well, I can do my best to answer, but you must understand that there is no _typical_ Jedi, so my answers may not be consistent with all of us.” 

“Of course,” Brin grinned, flashing his white, sharp teeth. “The first question, from a young viewer in the Senate District. Master Drallig, _do Jedi put up Light Night trees_?” He turned to Cin. “What say you, Master Jedi?” 

“Fair question,” Cin nodded. “I myself do not put up a Light Night tree, to the great disappointment of my tooka.” 

Jarra giggled. 

“Some Jedi do put up a small fake tree if they are home, or may have an ornament rack instead, and some have collections of keepsake ornaments that they display during Light Night, but most do not use real trees that have been chopped down, particularly on Coruscant. We do decorate several living trees in the Gardens with small, safe lanterns, and the initiates and creche children decorate a large, artificial tree for the Visitor’s Hall, and I’ve seen many older Jedi add an ornament or two, usually made of paper, beads or clay.” 

“I’ve seen the tree in the Visitor’s Hall, it’s always so colorful,” Jarra smiled. 

“The children do love color,” Cin agreed. 

“Alright, this question is from a mother of young children who love playing Jedi in their apartment. _Do Jedi give Light Night gifts or receive them, or is that not allowed?_ I think this mom is hoping it’s not.” 

Cin chuckled. “Again, some Jedi do give and accept gifts and others do not, but many of the Jedi on Coruscant do participate, even Jedi monks and nuns, but the gifts are generally small, simple and inexpensive. It’s more important to the Jedi to take the time to visit with friends if they are in Temple, rather than finding the perfect gift.” 

“The gift of time is more valuable?” Zarra asked. 

“Exactly.” 

Brin smiled again. “Well, this one is a bit more personal, Master Drallig. _What are you hoping for in a Light Night gift?_ ”

Cin tried to keep his smile on his face. They asked him this every year, and it inevitably led to whatever he said being delivered to the Temple in scores, sometimes anonymously, sometimes with fan letters with varying degrees of creepiness.

“This year, I’m hoping to have a nice meal with both of my former masters, attend some folk dancing at least once in the Temple and if I’ve been a good Battlemaster this year, hopefully I will get some nice new socks to keep my feet warm during the cold weather.” He turned to Brin. “Did you know that socks are the more frequently needed clothing item at homeless shelters?” 

“Um, no. I didn’t.” Brin tried to follow along, not sure where this was going.” 

“It is,” Cin nodded and turned to the camera. “So, if you’re feeling a little extra holiday generosity, I recommend donating some socks to your local homeless shelter. We may live on a planet with excellent climate control, but it’s an expensive one, and this is a difficult time of year to be short on funds. As a Jedi, I am fortunate enough to be given food, shelter and care from the Order, but many of our fellow beings are not.” 

“That’s a lovely suggestion for any of our viewers who want to give,” Jarra smiled brightly. “Mann-Gel, can we put up names and contact information for some local homeless charities?” 

“We already have,” the producer called, thankful the Jedi had run it by him before he talked about charitable donations. 

“That’s great,” Brin nodded. 

“And if you’re in the Temple District like I am, the Jedi clergy do run a homeless outreach and resource center, as do other religious and secular organizations.” 

“Socks,” Brin nodded. “Warm and practical.” He glanced at his notes. “And one last question: _what do you plan to give for Light Night_?” 

Cin blinked. “Well, that would spoil the surprise.” 

Zarra and Brin laughed on cue. 

“Last year I gave both of my former masters their favorite tea, and we had a nice dinner all together. I haven’t bought their gifts this year yet. I have bought treats for the tooka, but she doesn’t watch the holonews so it’s safe to say so.” 

Brin chuckled.

“You said some Jedi have ornament collections. Did you see this year’s new ornaments?” Zarra asked. “They were on the show today before your segment.” 

“Um, no, I didn’t.” Cin had heard them discussing ornaments while on the air, but had been in the makeup chair, trying to convince the technicians he was supposed to look dour and pasty and did not need to be touched up. “I did hear they were bringing back a vintage ornament this year?” 

“Yes,” Brin grinned. “Mann-Gel was so excited.”

Zarra pulled a wooden tray closer until it was within camera range, then picked up a small figure, dangling it from her fingers so Cin had a clear view as well as the camera which was zooming in on it. “The company representative said they are reissuing this Jedi-inspired ornament on the 50th anniversary of the original release.” 

Cin struggled not to laugh. He had seen this particular ornament before, in Simet’s collection, though his was a first edition. It was small, green and brown, was clutching a cane and wearing a tiny lightsaber hilt, and it was unmistakably Grandmaster Yoda. Despite modeling for it a half-century ago, it was still _very_ accurate. 

“Yes, I’m familiar with this design from the first time it was issued, but then every Jedi in the Order would recognize the model. That’s Grandmaster Yoda.” 

“Is it?” Brin asked. “I’ve never had the pleasure of interviewing him.”

“Master Yoda doesn’t give many interviews these days, he let’s Master Windu and the Public Relations Office handle that, but he is very much involved in Temple life.” 

Zarra held up another ornament. “Mann-Gel brought this one from his own collection. The representative said they are all supposed to be to scale, but this one is much larger.” 

Cin tried not to roll his eyes. “Yes, the scale actually looks fairly accurate. That one is based on Master Silvanus, and if you’ve seen him in archival clips, you’ll note he is quite a tall man. Master Yoda is quite small physically, but that’s normal for his species.” 

“Oh,” Zarra held the two side by side, astonished by the apparently accurate size discrepancy. “ _Really_?” 

“Yes, it’s a very good likeness. Actually, both of them are.” 

“We’ll have to check out those clips later, Mann-Gel,” Brin grinned. 

“Hmm,” the producer called back. “Maybe after the lightsaber combat expert goes back to his Temple.” Even Cin laughed at this. 

“Have they ever issued a Battlemaster Drallig ornament?” Zarra asked.

“No,” Cin’s eyes twinkled. “I don’t think I have the right face to be hung on a tree in miniature form.” 

The camera zoomed in on the tiny Master Silvanus, and Zarra turned it to show the large beak-like nose in profile. 

“Well, Master Silvanus doesn’t really either, but he was the Battlemaster for more than four decades, so if I manage to do the same, we can discuss it.” 

Both news anchors laughed. 

“You heard it here first, Collectors. Battlemaster Drallig will consider modeling after forty years of service.” 

The ending theme music began to play and Brin and Zarra began to wrap it up. Cin waved on cue, and thankfully the cameras were cut for the day. Mann-Gel approached the desk, always making a point to thank all the guests and commentators who appeared on each show. 

“Thank you for coming again, Master Drallig, it’s always a pleasure.” 

“The pleasure is mine. The Jedi High Council and the Public Relations Office are always grateful you provide airtime for Jedi representatives to present their viewpoints and try to represent all sides.” He shrugged. “Tree ornaments are hardly a deep issue, but I think they help the citizens see the Jedi as part of the Republic, rather than outsiders.” 

“Master Silvanus used to say the same thing when he would appear on the show,” Mann-Gel replied before growing serious. “You said Master Silvanus _doesn’t_ have a face for ornaments. Present tense. Is he still alive?” 

“Simet? Yes, he’s still alive, but retired and doesn’t get out much. His hands make things difficult, but his mind is still intact.” 

Mann-Gel, a Kepp of indeterminate age, had been producing the morning news longer than Cin had been alive. It was little wonder he would remember Simet well. 

“We were watching old clips to get ideas and find segments to put in our end of the year special and we found a clip of Master Simet reading a children’s story for a Nights of Light special, oh, decades ago. We have the rights to it, but if he’s alive, do you think he would mind if we rebroadcast it?” 

“Hmm,” Cin frowned. “In terms of diplomacy, you should probably give the PR Office a heads up, and I can ask Master Si if you want, but no, I don’t think he’d mind. He’d probably be stunned that you wanted to rerun it, he assumes most people don’t remember who he is anymore, but he understands that he doesn’t really own the rights to his own performances recorded by the media. Master Yoda would be thrilled. He loves the nostalgic retrospective specials.” 

Mann-Gel glanced at the tray of ornaments, snickering that Brin and Jarra did not know what Master Yoda looked like at all, much less knowing how small he was. “Did you want the Master Yoda ornament? Or would Master Yaddle? The other ornaments were claimed by the production team, but not the little Grandmaster. Most of my current employees are too young to recognize him.” 

“Um, no, it would be viciously murdered by my tooka.” He gave Mann-Gel an odd glance. “Why Master Yaddle?” 

Mann-Gel shrugged. “I thought she was perhaps Master Yoda’s partner, but I suppose she is old enough to have the first edition.” 

Cin laughed. “No, despite many rumors to the contrary, Master Yoda and Master Yaddle have a _sibling_ type of relationship. His partner is someone else.” 

“I did wonder,” Mann-Gel grinned as he picked up the tiny green figurine and held it out to Cin. “Would his partner enjoy it then?” 

Cin looked at the miniature, smiling at the thought. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I do think Master’s partner would really enjoy it.” 

Mann-Gel held it out. “Please, by all means.” 

Cin took the small ornament, cradling it in his hand. “Thank you very much, and I also thank you on behalf of his partner.” 

“You are very much welcome. And if you do speak with either Master Silvanus or Master Yoda, we would always be pleased to do an interview. We haven’t extended an invite to Master Simet recently, but if he’s still alive, well, he always did have a sharp mind and a sharp tongue.” 

“Oh, he still does. I think he prefers a private life these days, but he’s still casually sharing his keen mind and insights. He doesn’t really type anymore, but he’d probably talk to you if you arranged a time to call. You can still send him text-based messages. One of the sisters helps him with his correspondence.” 

Mann-Gel shook his hand as they walked back to the makeup chairs so the techs could take back Cin’s microphone. “I might have to do that. Thank you, Master Cin. We’ll see you next year, hopefully for good things, not threats to the Temple like that mugging last year.” 

Cin paused, looking Mann-Gel in the eye. “Do _not_ ask Master Si about _the incident_ with the mugging. Politics, social issues, art, dance, the Code, is fine. Not the mugging.”

“Thanks for the tip.” Mann-Gel patted him on the back before he headed back into his office to plan the next day’s broadcast. “You have a good holiday, Master Drallig.” 

“You too, Mann-Gel. May the Force be with you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shout out to JulieBehrens (JulieCox) who introduced me to tookas.
> 
> The morning news program is based on similar programs broadcast in the United States (such as the Today Show) and the producer is loosely based on Michael Gelman, the executive producer of Live with Regis and Kathie Lee (now currently Live with Kelly and Ryan) who is frequently spoken to and responds to the hosts, sometimes from off camera, which is admittedly odd in a morning news program, but more understandable in a live production.
> 
> I could not find a good clip of Gelman speaking off camera, but did find this absolutely hilarious clip in the 90's of Regis Philbin and Kathie Lee Gifford mocking themselves by doing a segment with Miss Piggy. You can hear a very short example of Regis talking to Gelman around 8:30 in the clip.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=10zP2evMCro


	2. Parties for Hosting, Marshmallows for Toasting and Caroling Out in the Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan gets an invitation, Anakin learns about the meaning of Nights of Light, and Qui-Gon gets some gifts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is taken from _It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year_ , by Edward Pola and George Wyle, and originally recorded by Andy Williams. Here is a delightfully weird video of it.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SFGC_YgeQ5w

“Kenobi?” 

Obi-Wan turned from putting his wet clothes in the drying unit to find Jitters lurking nervously in the door. “Yes, Jitters?” 

Jitters took a deep breath and released it, obviously nervous. “I’m sorry, I have a favor to ask.” 

Obi-Wan nodded, indicating Jitters should go ahead. Jitters nodded back and took another deep breath before he began a rapid monologue which Obi-Wan had come to realize was normal when he was anxious. 

“I’m sorry to bother you but my friends put me up to this because I’m the only one who actually knows you, but they heard about you and saw you in the salle and the engineers are having a Light Night Party and they wanted me to invite you because they all want a look at your lightsaber.” 

Obi-Wan blinked. “My _lightsaber_?” His tone indicated he wasn’t sure if Jitters was referring to his weapon or his anatomy. 

Jitters nodded. “The multi-crystal one. Master Bert said he heard it in the salle and wanted to see the schematics and get it on the oscilloscope. When I said I’d seen it at First Lighting they had a zillion questions, especially when I said it was water resistant. When I told them I couldn’t relay _all_ of those questions to you, they insisted I invite you, but really, I understand if you don’t want to come.” Jitter’s face indicated he was expecting a polite no. Or a less polite no. 

“What does an _Engineer Light Night Party_ entail, exactly?” 

Jitters looked a little wary, not prepared for anything beyond refusal. “Um, we set up a caff bar, there’s food we usually don’t cook ourselves, we bitch about our work, gossip about people we know, and it usually involves board games or ripping something apart and remodeling it, or redesigning stuff. Kind of like when we get together the rest of the year, but with better food and some cheesy decorations for Light Night.” 

Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment. Jitters braced for the no. 

“I probably don’t have the brains or skill to really help with a redesign or rebuild.” 

Jitters blinked. “You’re a field knight. You’d be the consultant.”

“The consultant?”

Jitters seemed to be calming a bit with every minute Obi-Wan didn’t just say no outright. “We sometimes try to make things more complicated than they need to be when we only work by ourselves. Very few of us actually go out into hot situations, so we tend to overthink things, not remembering that the Jedi using our designs and needing to make repairs in the field are not engineers.” 

Obi-Wan was quiet a moment. “I’m only an adequate pilot and the only thing I have any real proficiency building is lightsabers.” 

_Proficiency_. Jitters had seen Kenobi’s saber, in both the workshop and the salle. _Proficient_ was not the word he would use. He was starting to get an idea why Obi-Wan might be working with Vygor as he got to know him better. 

“Kenobi, your lightsaber is awesome, and frankly, if you come, you’re going to be the hottest person in the room and the only one who has had any diplomatic training.” Jitters shrugged. “We’re engineers and none of us managed to build a blade with Kanu harmonics. Knight Kanu is a legend to geeks like us, and you succeeded. They already think you are terrific.” 

“Oh.” Obi-Wan looked somewhere between flattered and flustered. “When is the party?” 

“Tomorrow night, dinner hour in the Engineering Conference Room. We usually finish by watching a holofilm when we run out of things to talk about.” 

“What should I bring?” 

Jitters looked stunned. “You’ll really come?” 

Obi-Wan shrugged. “It sounds like it could be fun, even if I’m not much help in your rebuild, and Healer Vygor keeps telling me to get out and try new things, and I’ve learned some really helpful tips looking over engineer’s shoulders.” 

“Okay,” Jitters nodded. “They asked me to ask you to bring your lightsaber, and if you have a scan of your mechanical drawing, that would be great, but do not bring the original, they write all over stuff. Everyone brings food to share, just snacks and treats, but we order in the main course. I think its curried nerf and vegetables this year. There’s always plenty of chips and crisps and a vegetable tray, but if you are picky you might want to bring something _you_ like. But you don’t _need_ to bring anything, just yourself.” 

“Sounds good. Okay, I’ll come, assuming I’m not called out on a mission. I don’t _think_ I’ll be, but I don’t always get much notice.”

“I understand,” Jitters nodded. “We don’t always get notice either. One year there was a power failure in the West Quadrant in the middle of the party and half of us went to go fix it. We came back an hour later to find dinner was getting cold and everyone else was building droids out of spare parts.” 

Obi-Wan chuckled. “I should probably introduce you to Anakin.”

“Anakin?”

“A late-arriving initiate who grew up in a scrap yard. He kept trying to disassemble everything in my master’s quarters and always had spare parts in his pockets. He’s looking for a master, but definitely has the talent for the Eng Corps if he doesn’t become a knight.” 

Jitters laughed. “We aren’t allowed to have initiates at our parties, but I think Master Bert might know him. The disassembling sounds familiar.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Anakin is quite gifted.” 

“Well, we can invite him when gets a little older.” He gave Obi-Wan a cautious look. “So, you’ll really come?”

“Yes. And if I get called out, I’ll let you know and send you the schematics at least.” 

Jitters snorted. “I’ve seen your schematic. If I show it to the others without you, they’ll throw you a welcome home party just to meet you.” 

“Is it really that interesting? I would have thought _all_ of the engineers would have made Kanu sabers because they could understand the mechanics and physics.” 

“Oh, most of us do,” Jitters agreed. “But most of us can’t read stones for shit. You’re a unicorn. You can read the stones, you can use Kanu techniques _and_ you have the brains and perseverance to learn advanced saber design. We usually team up with stone readers to do that sort of thing. You can do _both_. By yourself.”

“I _did_ have help,” Obi-Wan explained. 

“We know,” Jitters assured him. “Master Noughten and Master Leila told us when we asked how you did it so young. Master Noughten was very impressed, but Master Leila said she knew you had that talent for _years_ , and that all the stones sing for you. The engineers really, _really_ want to meet you.” 

Obi-Wan looked as if he wasn’t sure he could live up the hype. “Well, I’ll just try to keep up.” 

Jitters looked relieved. “You’ll be fine. I just hope we don’t bore you.” For a moment, Jitters looked uncertain. “Um, I forgot to mention, it’s a dry party, no alcohol.”

“That’s fine,” Obi-Wan grinned. “Less vomit to clean up. I’m not much of a drinker. I usually have to keep my wits about me on most missions.”

“There might still be vomit, a lot of us have anxiety, but we will be sober, so we usually make it to the refresher.” 

Obi-Wan genuinely laughed. “I’ve been to worse parties. How formal is the dress code?” 

Jitters looked him up and down, checking his size. “This is an engineer party. I’ll bring an extra set of coveralls for you.”

“Oh. Thanks.” 

* * *

Qui-Gon Jinn showed up promptly at dusk, fully clothed and wearing a festive sweater he had dug out of the back of his closet that had been as a gift from Tahl many years ago, before she had been blinded. It was loud, colorful and tacky and the casual observer would have been forgiven for assuming she had been tricked into purchasing it _after_ she had lost her sight. 

“Ah, Master Jinn, thank you for coming.” Docent Redmond stepped away from where he had been helping an initiate secure a scarf against the cold weather. “We very much appreciate extra pairs of hands on First Light Night.” He looked Qui-Gon over with a nod of approval. “Nice sweater.” 

“I thought I should be festive for the occasion.” 

“It’s appreciated.” Docent Redmond’s manner turned cautious. “Most of the children are going on a walking tour with an open-air shuttle through the district, but a few of our more fragile students are going on a closed air shuttle tour instead so they won’t catch a chill. I had wondered if perhaps you would prefer to chaperone that group of students, particularly since Initiate Skywalker will be there.” 

“Anakin’s not going on the walking tour?” Qui-Gon was torn between concern that the docents were being too soft on Anakin and relief that he’d get out of walking in the cold himself. 

“No, Anakin is still having a little trouble adjusting to cold environments. Not so much that it’s a medical concern, but enough that he finds it unpleasant. It’s a holiday and seeing the lights should be fun. And one of his friends has recently recovered from a respiratory infection and shouldn’t be out in the cold, so we asked Ani if he would like to go with her, so he wouldn’t think it was a criticism. He’s been growing fast, so we expect he’ll have more muscle mass by next year and able to stand the cold.” 

“Oh, well if Anakin is going on the heated shuttle, I suppose I could sacrifice the exercise opportunity of walking all over in the freezing cold to chaperone them,” Qui-Gon grinned. 

“Thank you, Master Jinn.” Redmond gestured for Qui-Gon to follow and led him through the throngs of excited children to a small group sitting in a corner under the watchful eye of a healer. “Healer Mel, I’ve found a volunteer to help you out.” 

The healer nodded in acknowledgement as the docent clapped his hands to get the children’s attention. 

“Children, this is Master Jinn; he and Healer Mel will be in charge on the shuttle.”

Qui-Gon looked over his charges as Redmond introduced them. Ani was fully dressed, with a tan sweater vest under his outer robe, a hat, and fingerless gloves to keep him warm. A small girl his age was wearing a scarf so she could easily pull it over her face, so she was probably the initiate getting over the cold. There were two initiates that were from cold-sensitive species, and the last two children were medically frail, one with a breathing mask over his face, likely warming and humidifying the air, and the other was very thin and in a motorchair. 

Anakin grinned broadly, thrilled by his chaperone. “Master Qui-Gon, I didn’t know you were back.”

Qui-Gon accepted a hug from Anakin while the other children looked at him warily. “I’ve been back from my mission for a few weeks,” he replied. “But I’ve been helping Master Monti with some demonstrations and helping Master Rence teach a workshop.” 

Debap, the scarf-bedecked initiate, looked excited. “Master Rence is so cool!” She covered her mouth, suddenly aware that could be interpreted as rude. “I’m sorry.” 

Qui-Gon laughed. “That’s alright, young one. I think Master Rence is pretty cool too.” 

“Did you win against her yet, Master Qui-Gon?” Ani asked, remembering the last time he had seen them spar. 

“Not _this_ week,” Qui-Gon admitted. “But I almost singed Master Drallig.” 

“Wow.” Both of the initiates had eyes like saucers. Qui-Gon tried not to think about how long it had been since he had actually won a match against Cin. 

Qui-Gon made a point of introducing himself to all of the children. Healer Mel explained that Birdi and Wulfer could not thermoregulate in the cold, but were otherwise healthy, that Treydon had chronic lung issues that made the cold air dangerous for him, and that Nora in the motorchair did not have enough muscle mass to shiver if she got cold. The healer assured him she could assist the medically fragile children herself but would appreciate if Qui-Gon could keep the more mobile children in line. Qui-Gon agreed and after a few minutes a whistle blew and the first group of initiates began to board the open air car for the trip to the Senate Green to see the Garden Lights and seasonal displays. 

Qui-Gon had the healthy children line up behind Treydon who was riding a scooter that had been decorated in glow ribbons, as had Nora’s chair. Nora and Healer Mel brought up the rear while Qui-Gon led the way to the heated shuttle, noting as they boarded that the South Terrace residents were apparently scheduled for the same tour tomorrow. Qui-Gon breathed a sigh of relief, then helped the children find their seats and buckle in. Healer Mel directed Birdi and Wulfer to sit under the heat vent, Ani and Debap sat near the front, and Treydon locked the brakes on his scooter so he could sit next to the healer across from Nora, who was wrapped in warm blankets in her chair. Once all were aboard, the pilot secured the door and began his checks while the tour guide outlined where they would go and what they would see. They were scheduled to fly over most of the same places the other initiates were visiting but didn’t have to get out of their cozy shuttle. Qui-Gon was thrilled. 

The tour guide encouraged them to enjoy the view on the way there, not just at the destination, then turned on some seasonal music as they pulled out into the airlanes.

Qui-Gon turned to Ani and Debap. “You two look very warmly dressed.” 

Ani nodded. “The Temple gets cold this time of year.” 

Debap shrugged. “I had a bad cold and cold air still makes me cough.” 

“That’s a nice sweater,” Qui-Gon commented. Anakin had moved and Qui-Gon could see it was lined with insulating fabric.

“Thanks. Obi-Wan said it was an early Light Night gift so I wouldn’t be cold in class.” 

Qui-Gon looked surprised. “Obi-Wan gave you a Light Night gift?” 

“Yes.” 

“He was shivering when Master Yoda took us to watch the knights spar,” Debap explained. 

“Obi-Wan said I could borrow his robe that day, but the sweater was good for other days.” 

“Yes,” Qui-Gon nodded. “He used to wear them when he was a padawan.” 

“I like your sweater,” Debap told Qui-Gon. “The hawkbats look funny.” 

“Thank you. It was a gift from a friend since I used mostly Ataru before I was injured.” 

“Master Qui-Gon, am I supposed to give Obi-Wan a Light Night present since he gave me one?” 

Ani had spent his first Nights of Light holiday adjusting to the temperature change and hiding in the dorms. It was good to see him trying to participate. 

“Well, you aren’t issued many credits at your age, so I doubt Obi-Wan is expecting any gifts from you, but you should write him a thank you note to tell him you are using his gift and that it’s keeping you warm.” 

Anakin’s eyes widened. “I can’t write all fancy like Obi-Wan does.” 

Qui-Gon chuckled. “I can’t do calligraphy either, but Master Dooku did make sure I could write neatly. You can type it on your data reader and print it on flimsy, but you should still sign your name by hand.” 

Ani looked relieved. “I could probably do that.” 

“You can also do some of the craft projects,” Debap suggested. “We made decorations for the tree for most of the early ones, but in some of them we make gifts to give away. We’re making bookmarks and painting cups tomorrow.” 

“Obi-Wan would probably like either of those,” Qui-Gon assured him. “He likes to read from real books, and he drinks both caff and tea.” 

“That’s why we had so many craft classes this month?” Ani asked. “To make gifts?” 

“Yup,” Debap tried not to giggle. “Sorry, Ani. I thought you knew.” 

“We made potholders,” Birdi piped up. 

“And painted flowerpots,” Wulfer added. 

“Oh. I didn’t know.” Ani looked a bit embarrassed. 

“That’s okay,” Debap reassured him. “You still have time.” She poked Ani and pointed at Master Jinn’s long hair. “We’re making hair ties with beads in two days,” she whispered loudly. 

Qui-Gon pretended not to hear as Ani nodded. 

The shuttle reached the Senate Green and flew slowly around the perimeter before entering the central path. They passed several groups of initiates walking from display to display and each waved enthusiastically as they passed, probably to have an excuse to move their arms in the cold than to just be friendly. 

The different displays were sponsored by different embassies and most of them were dioramas showing scenes of wildlife native to each world. Tattooine was not represented, which was not surprising as it was not in the Republic, but Ani recognized a few of the planet names, if not the animals and plants. Naboo was represented, as it was the chancellor’s homeworld, and this year’s display showed the giant, underwater creatures of that world. Debap pointed out her homeworld, as did Birdi (which unsurprisingly displayed a lush swamp). Ani also recognized Stewjon, a planet Obi-Wan used to have a pic of, and the display was of grasslands and long-legged herbivores. Qui-Gon pointed out Serreno as his former master’s homeworld, and Nora seemed fascinated by the wild cousins of the renowned steeds of Chandrila. 

When they had driven past as many of the displays as they could, the pilot flew them around the Senate building, all lit up, then turned to head toward the Financial District, where the many tall buildings were bathed in colored lights. 

They flew slowly down the avenue and under several bridges and arches, the tour guide identifying the different buildings and explaining the color combinations if there was a reason for the choice. They eventually reached Retail Road, where many of the large flagship stores in the upper levels of the district were located. Many of the shops had decorated their large windows with fantastical displays, some advertising their wares while others illustrated well known children’s stories. The Transit Authority closed these routes for three hours after dark to allow locals and tourists to see the displays. All of the children in the shuttle pressed against the windows to see the details. Healer Mel wrapped a soft scarf over Birdi and Wulfer’s noses and had them put on their mittens so they wouldn’t lose too much heat from touching the cold glass. Nora snapped a few pics for an art project she was working on. 

After the shuttle left the retail stores, it headed over toward the Educational District to see the light displays at the universities. They parked for a while next to some of the open-air shuttles holding their classmates to hear one of the university choirs sing seasonal music. The tour guide was able to tap into a microphone recording near the stage, so they didn’t have to open the doors or windows to hear the music live. 

Anakin thought the music was strange, very different from celebratory music on Tatooine, where they tended to sing in Huttese. Most of the songs seemed to be about how wonderful snow and cold weather was (Ani wasn’t convinced), or about turning on lights or lights in the sky at night. Anakin wasn’t sure why they were singing about that, but the music was pleasant. All of the children laughed at the song about singing with missing baby teeth, but none of them understood why one would want a rancor as a Light Night gift. 

During a break in the concert, the shuttle left to head back through the Temple District. The Jedi Temple was understandably the largest religious building complex in the district, but not the only one, and many other houses of worship had lit up their buildings to show off architectural details, ornate colored windows or had draped them in decorative flags. It wasn’t long before the Jedi Temple came into view. Ani had taken shuttle rides to and from the Temple since his arrival on Coruscant, but other than the off-world trip to Arkel IV, most trips had not been routed to give them a good view of the building.

“Oh, Ani, look!” Debap pointed as the Jedi Temple came into view. “They made our home so beautiful!” 

Anakin couldn’t disagree. Many of the residents in the towers had strung colored lights along their balcony rails and floating lanterns were tethered to the roof, swaying serenely in the cold night air. The Council Chamber at the top of the central tower was lit up like a lighthouse, the colors changing all the time. The Temple Plaza was lit up with electric torches and strung with flags flapping in the breeze. A small group of knights were singing more serious seasonal music than the college students had, and were trying to get the tourists waiting to go into the Visitor’s Hall to join in. Several monks and nuns were walking down the line, offering cups of warm cider while they waited for their turn to sing. 

The shuttle flew around the whole Temple before finally heading back to the passenger bay, ending the tour. 

Qui-Gon turned to look over the children. “Did you all have a good time?”

“Yeah!” Ani grinned. “That was a lot of fun!” 

“You can see the windows better when you take the walking tour,” Debap reported. “But it was really nice to be warm.” 

“I liked the music best,” Treydon reported. 

“I liked seeing the Temple all lit up,” Nora piped up. 

“I liked seeing everyone and waving to our friends,” Birdi smiled.

“I liked learning new songs they don’t teach us in the Temple,” Wulfer declared.

Qui-Gon and Healer Mel shared a look, trying not to laugh. 

Docent Redmond was there to greet them when they disembarked, directing them to warm drinks and treats being served by padawans down in the Recreation Garden. The padawans had also decorated the trees with colored lights and had helped the wrap the gifts the docents and teaching masters had selected for each child. Last year Anakin had received a real book all about Jedi traditions with a note letting him know they thought this book would help him understand why the Jedi did the things they did. He learned in the chapter about holidays that books were a traditional gift for initiates during the Nights of Light, so he expected he would probably get another one. 

Birdi and Wulfer found a spot on the heated rocks to keep warm while they waited for the rest of their classmates to get back from the walking tours. Treydon sat down at the table that was loaded down with boardgames, waiting for his friends to come back to play. Healer Mel passed Nora back into the care of a docent so she could get into less restrictive clothes before coming back to the party. 

Qui-Gon Jinn accepted a cup of warm cider and a packet of cookies from the padawans, then sat down with Ani and Debap for a few minutes until the other children began to arrive. 

“Do you have solstice celebrations on Tatooine, Ani?” Debap asked. 

“Not really. Tatooine is controlled by the Hutts, so most holidays are Hutt holidays.” 

“Like Boonta’s Eve?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Yeah,” Ani nodded. “Watto didn’t make my mom swear loyalty like Gardulla the Hutt used to, but he did give us a basket of mushrooms anyway. Boonta Eve was funny because it could come at any time of the year.” 

“It’s on the Hutt calendar, not Tatooine’s calendar,” Qui-Gon explained. 

“Right.” 

“Were the mushrooms good?” Debap asked. She knew Ani had been a slave, but she never teased him about it or asked rude questions. 

“My mom liked them more than I did, but they were good food for Tatooine.” 

“Did you celebrate when the rains came?” Qui-Gon asked.

“Yes. Everyone did. The Hutts did, and the slaves, even the tough guys and the criminals. Everyone loved he rain because it took so long to come.” 

“Rain is very regulated here, but I’m sure you’ll see plenty of it when you’re a padawan.” Qui-Gon patted Anakin’s shoulder. So far as he knew there _still_ hadn’t been any interested masters. Qui-Gon was getting ready to swallow his pride and go to Yoda about it. He knew the Force was _still_ not prompting him to take on Ani (or anyone) as a padawan, not that he was allowed to, but the idea of sending Anakin to the Service Corps seemed like such a waste of his talents and potential. 

“ _If_ we get to be padawans,” Debap sighed. She was past twelve now, and time was running short. 

“It may not be the will of the Force,” Qui-Con counseled. “But there are many roles to play in the Order and if you keep your mind open, you will find your place.” 

Debap tried to shrug off her worry and disappointment. “Too bad we can’t ask for masters for a Light Night gift.” 

Qui-Gon chuckled. “It could be worse. My master always gave me socks for Light Night. No matter how old I got, he always gave me socks.” 

The children giggled. 

“Were they _fun_ socks?” Debap asked. 

“No. They were always plain black, grey or tan and from Stores. They were warm when the Temple was cold, but so boring. Master Yoda at least gave me biscuits because I was his grand-padawan.”

“Master Yoda has good biscuits,” Ani sipped at his cider now that it was cool enough to drink. 

“He does,” Qui-Gon agreed. 

A dull roar grew behind the door and the next wave of initiates flooded the entrance to the garden. Qui-Gon gave Anakin one last pat, said goodnight to both him and Debap, and got a refill and a second cup of cider before heading back to the Master’s Tower. 

“I smell cider,” was the first thing Tahl said when she opened the door. 

“It’s from the Initiate Party, so it’s not the hard stuff,” Qui-Gon said as he carefully handed over her cup. “But it’s very good.” 

“Oh, that _is_ good,” Tahl agreed. “How was the tour with the younglings?” 

“Terrific. I got assigned to the closed-air shuttle and didn’t even have to go outside.”

“No wonder you aren’t exhausted. Chaperoning the initiates always wore me out, even when I was young.” 

“I must say, it was a nice alternative.” 

Tahl snorted. “Did you want your Light Night gift now?” she asked as she sipped at her cider, trying to make it last. “I got a package from Marcus and it included a gift for you.”

“Really?” Qui-Gon sat down with her on the couch. “I didn’t think to get anything for him, and I didn’t bring your gift. I ran out of hands carrying the cider.” 

Tahl smiled at him. “You’re forgiven. And I doubt that Marcus was expecting you to send anything to the Outer Rim. He had acquired a native translating dictionary for one of the systems he deals with and wanted to send the physical book to Archives and he included your present. His letter said he found it at a flea market at a Mid-Rim trading post on his last trip out and thought it would help you keep focused on your training.” 

She reached for a package on the side table, wrapped in plain brown paper and handed it over. Qui-Gon noted that Marcus had gone to the trouble of tagging it with a label Tahl could read with her fingers. 

“I have to wonder what he would have found out in the Mid-Rim.” He shook the box gently, but nothing rattled. “It’s too small to be a water bottle.”

“Maybe it’s a _rock_ ,” Tahl quipped. 

Qui-Gon rolled his eyes. “I only gave him a rock _once_. And I wasn’t expecting to take a padawan when I left the Temple.” 

“Did you give Anakin the rock yet?” 

“No.” Qui-Gon knew Tahl would hear his eyeroll in his voice. “It still feels like inadequacy. I’ve been trying to fix it through meditation, but it’s going slow.” 

“Obi-Wan _slept_ with that rock. It’s going to take a while.” She clasped his hand. “Maybe once you work through your feelings and finally accept Obi-Wan as he is, you should imprint _that_ on the stone and give it back to him.” 

Qui-Gon was quiet for a long moment. “That’s an interesting idea.” 

“Write it down for your therapy appointment.” 

“Yes, Master Tahl.” Qui-Gon knew better than to argue and made note of it before turning his attention back to his gift. “Something to help me focus on my training?” he mused as he ripped open the paper to reveal a plain box. “A pedometer? A tiny barbell? A meditation crystal?” He opened the box and stared at the contents, speechless. 

“What is it?” Tahl asked after a moment.

Qui-Gon picked it up and held it up to his eyes. 

“It’s a vintage tree ornament. Of Master Silvanus.”

Tahl burst out laughing. Qui-Gon continued to scrutinize the gift. 

“The nose is _huge_ on this thing.” 

Tahl laughed harder. 

“What am I supposed to do with this thing?” he asked. 

“Hang it up,” Tahl pushed through her giggles. “In your quarters to remind you not to get cocky.” 

Qui-Gon snorted. It _was_ pretty funny. “At least he waited until my master left the Order to give me this.” 

This set Tahl off again. She reached for another box. “Open mine next.” 

Qui-Gon put the little Master Si back in the box, then inspected Tahl’s gift. “Is it food? Or a personal toy?” 

“No,” Tahl giggled. “I found it in the Jedi Secondhand Shop and thought you would find it inspiring.” She leaned against his shoulder, still laughing. 

“Okay,” he took off the ribbon without untying it, admiring Tahl’s handiwork, then opened the box. This one also contained a tree ornament. “Oh my, Tahl, is this _the Wraith_?” 

“That’s what the salesperson told me. I confess, it could have been a chancellor from a hundred years ago and I wouldn’t have been able to tell.”

Qui-Gon held it up. It looked just like the character in the holofilms, eyes behind dark lenses, face covered by a cloth mask, his whole face shadowed by a wide-brimmed hat. He was dressed in dark clothes with a black cape over one shoulder and could just as easily be cast as a villain as a hero. He had a lightsaber hilt in each hand just waiting for the right moment to light them and spring into the fight and take out some Dark Jedi who had betrayed their vows. 

“This is wonderful, Tahl.” He leaned down to kiss her. “Thank you.” 

“Is it inspiring?” she asked. “Will it help keep you on track?” 

Qui-Gon laughed. “Well, it will certainly encourage me to keep to the Light, lest Cin send some young saber prodigy after me.” He grinned down at the tiny figurine. “I’ll have to keep this one up all year long.” 

“What about the Master Silvanus?” Tahl giggled. 

“I’ll probably put it in my meditation room. Marcus is right, it’s good incentive.” He looked down at the Master Silvanus ornament, addressing it directly. “And if you call me _Jackass_ one more time, I’ll let the Wraith kick your ass!” 

Tahl laughed so hard she almost fell off the couch. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray for Jitters, getting out of his comfort zone! Any thoughts about him, or about Qui-Gon's continued growth?
> 
> The two Christmas songs referenced in the choir concert are _All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth_ by Donald Yetter Gardner (which was written by a public school music teacher in my childhood hometown), and _I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas_ by John Rox and recorded by Gayla Peevey.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2kkwq2wc_U8
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vsvOrtcrA5c


	3. The Party's On, The Feeling’s Here That Only Comes This Time of Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan learns what exactly an engineer party entails, learns a little history and shows the engineers how to read stones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from Paul McCartney's _Wonderful Christmastime_. Why do holiday videos have that extra bit of weirdness?
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=94Ye-3C1FC8
> 
>  **WARNING:** Comic book science.

“Thank you for coming to the party.” Jitters released his usual pre-socializing anxiety into the Force as the lift slid down the Knight’s Tower toward the Engineering Department. 

“Thank you for inviting me. Those of us in the Dip Corp have to go to so many parties where we have to be on our guard or passing information or flattering people by lying through our teeth, that having a party ourselves is the last thing we want to do. Sometimes we have an outing, but if it’s been a really bad year, we do a group meditation. Sometimes we do both. There are plenty of people in the Dip Corp like Quinlan and Kressa who work almost exclusively rough missions, so the meditations can be very restorative.” 

“That sound really well-adjusted,” Jitters said as they exited to the Visitor’s Hall, dodging tourists and their fellow Jedi who were dashing about meeting friends and exchanging gifts. 

“Only if you can get the people who need it to attend. My master always skipped it and we went to visit his master. We gave him tea, Master Dooku gave my master socks, and he always gave me a one-credit Temple coin and told me not to spend it all in one place and sent me off to _play_ so they could talk.” 

“A _one_ credit coin?” Jitters grimaced. “What did he think you could buy for one credit?” 

“Humility, apparently. It was always evening during Light Nights and it was only good in the Temple and everything was closed.” He shrugged. “When I was twenty-one and he gave me the same coin five minutes after I arrived Master Jinn stopped making me attend. I would go help Master Yoda decorate his plants after I was dismissed. At least he had biscuits.” 

Jitters laughed. “Maybe Master Dooku should have been an engineer. We’re notorious for bad gifts.” 

Obi-Wan chuckled. “Maybe.” 

“What does the Dip Corp do for outings? Sometimes we try to plan things, but it’s hard to get some of us slugs out of the Temple.” 

“Different things. One year it was ice skating. Sometimes it’s a holo-film. I think they went to a museum exhibit last year, but I was on a mission run and missed it. We do different things. It also depends on how many people are around in a given year.” 

“What was this year’s outing?” Jitters asked as they entered the Engineering Complex. Party music from a generation ago could be heard from a room up ahead.

“They’re going to a wine tasting at the Pan-Alderaan Cultural Center. Normally I wouldn’t go to an alcohol-based event, but Bail and Rouge are going to be there, and there is usually some food. Are you interested?” 

Jitters tried not to grimace. “Um, no. To anyone else I’m sure that’s a lovely invite, but it sounds like hell to me.” 

Obi-Wan laughed. “If my cousins weren’t coming, I’d agree. I can have an opinion on wine, but I’m not an enthusiast.” 

"Pan-Alderaan?” 

“Alderaan _and_ its colony worlds. I was born on Stewjon, which is considered independent, but they all have the same senator and one can travel freely between the different worlds with the same credentials. The laws vary slightly and there are different planetary leaders, but there is a lot of cultural overlap, and they share embassy, office and cultural center space here on Coruscant.” 

“I did not know that,” Jitters said as he opened the door to the conference room. 

“Most people don’t.” With a deep breath, Obi-Wan followed Jitters in and looked around. 

It was the most casually dressed party, Jedi or otherwise, that Obi-Wan had ever attended. Most of the attendees were at least partially in Jedi cream and brown, some had coveralls over their uniforms, and there wasn’t a tabard or obi in sight other than his own. He was starting to feel over-dressed. 

Jitters got the important stuff out of the way first. “The food is over here.” He pointed to two empty heating trays. “The main course will arrive in a little while, so everyone doesn’t immediately eat and leave. As I said, there are plenty of chips and soft drinks and Master Bert usually brings something from the bakery.” 

Obi-Wan held up the box he was carrying. “I brought bantha meatballs. I hope that’s okay.” 

“You cooked them?” Jitters asked warily. 

Obi-Wan shrugged. “They’re pre-cooked. I combined ingredients to make a sauce and heated them all afternoon so the flavors would meld.” He pulled out a small electric pot, cracked the lid and offered Jitters a toothpick. “Vos was my guinea pig. They are Kiffar approved.” 

Intrigued by the smell wafting out of the pot, Jitters tried one. Sweet and savory flavors danced on his tongue. 

“Kriff! That is good,” he declared. “Is that why Quinlan scowled at me and called a lucky bastard?” 

Obi-Wan laughed. “Probably. He had stopped by to invite me to the floor party and was very disappointed these were for _your_ party.” 

“Those are fabulous.” 

“And ridiculously easy. I learned how to make them from Master Tahl. She had learned from _her_ master, but it was something she didn’t need to see to make well, so she made them a lot when I was a teenager, and she was still learning how to adapt to her blindness.” Obi-Wan turned back to the electric pot. “They should stay warm. I brought a power pack in case there were no outlets.” 

Jitters blinked at the table. “You’d think a roomful or engineers would think to bring adapters.” 

“Oh, you probably need them for the rebuilds,” Obi-Wan chuckled as he plugged the pot into the battery and set it on low. 

A woman a little older than Obi-Wan and Jitters who still sported a padawan buzzcut sans braid came up to them, attracted by the smell of hot food. “Hi, Jitters. Is this your neighbor with the harmonized lightsaber?” She looked Obi-Wan over skeptically. 

Jitters gave Obi-Wan an apologetic look. “Cynna, this is Obi-Wan Kenobi. He is my neighbor, and he built a multi-crystal blade with Kanu harmonics.” 

Cynna frowned. “Your name sounds familiar.” 

Obi-Wan looked puzzled. “I can’t think why.” 

“Do you work with the Engineering Corp?”

“No, I’m in the Dip Corp.” 

“He fought a Sith,” Jitters explained. “Master Drallig discusses him in that seminar Master Bert keeps telling us to take.”

“You know I didn’t take that crap,” Cynna scoffed. “But I’d swear I’ve heard your name before.” 

“It’s a funny name,” Obi-Wan conceded, looking puzzled. “I’m sure I did a few embarrassing things as a padawan, but I’d hope they weren’t that memorable.” He grimaced. “I was on probation, but I really don’t want to discuss it.” 

Cynna shrugged. “I’ll figure it out eventually.” 

“He was Grandmaster Yoda’s half-padawan.” Jitters seemed very impressed by this. “They play Breggle together.” He turned back to Obi-Wan. “Cynna has been following the Breggle Neuroimaging Project with great interest.” 

“Has that been helping your work?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Oh yes,” Jitters’ eyes lit up. “It’s been fascinating to chart how the individual player’s capacity to manipulate stones increases with practice over time and my collaborator has been getting really good data of how the brain is remodeled to create that capacity.” He turned to Obi-Wan. “Would you be interested in taking part in Phase 2? We’ve tracked several Jedi through the learning process but now we want to create a library of brain scans of Jedi with different skill levels, so we can use the scans to predict how much capacity a given Jedi has and to get population trends in the data to influence our designs.” 

“What would that involve?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Well, you’d have to drink some contrast dye, then either wear a head scanner or go into the body scanner and do some basic Breggle games and skills with the healer-approved stones so the scanner won’t get damaged or interfered with.” 

“How long would it take?” 

“It’s been going about two to three hours from showing up to being done.” Jitters shrugged. “You might go faster because you’ve been playing a while, but they might want to a full scan since we don’t have as many young people.” 

“Send me the information. I’ll see if I can do it on one of my rest periods.”

“Thanks.” Jitters looked elated. “We really appreciate it.” 

“It sounds like you’re getting good information from it.” 

“We really are.” 

“Did you ask Master Silvanus to participate? The only better player I know is Master Yoda, but he probably has different brain structures.” 

“We asked. He agreed so long as he could do it when he was getting scanned for a different study that he’s in, so he doesn’t have to drink the contrast dye twice.” 

“That seems reasonable.” 

“Yeah, that stuff is gross.” 

“What’s in the pot?” Cynna asked, looking both curious and hungry. 

“Glazed cocktail bantha meatballs.”

“They’re really good,” Jitters affirmed. 

Cynna tried one. “These _are_ good.”

“I can send you the recipe,” Obi-Wan offered. 

“Oh, no. I’m a disaster in the kitchen.” 

Jitters looked at the pot with regret. “I’m a pretty lousy cook myself. I can follow directions okay, but I find recipes overwhelming.” 

“I can show you how, it’s a very simple recipe,” Obi-Wan insisted. 

“We should get him to teach _someone_ ,” Cynna insisted. “These are fabulous.” 

Obi-Wan bit back a laugh. “Thank you.” 

“Hi Jitters, Cynna, Total Stranger.” A young man in coveralls came up to them. “It smells like real food in here.” 

“There _is_ real food in here,” Cynna gestured toward the pot. “Bantha meatballs.”

The newcomer looked at Obi-Wan suspiciously. “Does your friend know how to cook?” 

“Yes!” Jitters shook his head. “Romo, this is Obi-Wan. He can cook, he’s in the Dip Corp. Obi-Wan, this is Romo, he works in Temple maintenance and as an air and spacecraft engineer.” 

“I’m a grease monkey, not a designer.” 

“That’s more than I can do,” Obi-Wan admitted. “I take the maintenance classes and can do simple repairs, but that’s about it.”

Romo frowned at him. “Your name sounds familiar.”

Obi-Wan and Jitters shared a glance. Jitters shrugged. “Obi-Wan built a multi-crystal blade with Kanu harmonics. He agreed to bring it to the party.”

Romo frowned. “Wait, are you Anakin’s Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “Anakin Skywalker?” 

"Yes! He’s very talented in mechanics so the docents arranged an internship for him last year. I worked with him a few times. He talked about you.”

“Really? I would have assumed he would talk about Master Jinn, not me.” 

“Oh, he _did_ talk about Master Jinn, but he talked about you too. He said you built a _wizard_ lightsaber that was very loud, that you fought a very scary Zabrak, that you spar with Battlemaster Drallig and that you play Breggle with Grandmaster Yoda.” 

“Um, yes, that’s me.” Obi-Wan looked amused. “I’m surprised he noticed me that much. He’s quite enamored with Master Jinn, but I didn’t think he liked me.” 

“Oh, he considers Master Jinn his hero, but he sees you as a role model too. He’s told me all about how you’ve been learning Soresu, that you cook good food, you taught him how to tie all his sashes, and you write all fancy.” 

Obi-Wan burst out laughing. “Guilty as charged.” 

The others looked at him questioningly. “Fancy?” Jitters asked. 

“Oh, I showed Anakin how to do a little calligraphy when I was teaching him how to write.” 

“Ah.” 

“So, you’re the one with the new Kanu-harmonized blade? I’ve been looking forward to meeting it.” Romo turned and pointed to a safety box and saber worktable set up across the room. “Honestly, most of us have.” 

“I really didn’t think it was that unusual,” Obi-Wan admitted. “I’ve been reading about it since I was an initiate.” 

“We all have,” Romo agreed. “But even in the C&W they don’t make them that often. They get good harmonics, they get great harmonics, but they rarely get Kanu-level harmonics, and it’s even more rare for field knights.” 

“I told you,” Jitters insisted. “You’re a unicorn.” 

Cynna looked intrigued. “Did it pass The Test?” 

Obi-Wan looked mystified. “Which test?” There was a lot of tests one had to run to build a good multi-crystal blade, much less one with good harmonics. 

Cynna’s eyes grew suspicious. “The Clang Test. Does it ring when it contacts a real Kanu blade?” 

“Oh. That wasn’t a test in the books, but we happened to do that in the salle when someone else was using a lightstaff made by Knight Kanu. Yes, it gets quite loud. Scared the hell out of me and amused Battlemaster Drallig. I was _not_ expecting that.” 

“Oooh.” Romo and Cynna stared at him, half in awe, half in disbelief. After a moment they blinked and looked at each other. “I’ll go get the test blade,” Cynna nodded and dashed out of the room. 

“She doesn’t believe me?” Obi-Wan asked, perplexed. 

“She doesn’t,” Romo confirmed. “But if you’re telling the truth, she wants to analyze the collision sounds. We have examples of Kanu blades that we’ve studied, but few new ones and studying the collision sounds when two blades come together is one of her areas of research. It has applications in saber design of course, but also in blaster and large-scale weapons design.” 

“Large-scale?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Big guns,” Jitters explained. “Mega-blasters. Mega-lasers. Stuff mounted on buildings and ships. They used to have weapons that were basically giant saber/blaster hybrid canons on the top of the towers to repel invaders.” 

“Really?” Obi-Wan asked, fascinated. 

“Yeah,” Jitters nodded. “The engineers always wanted to rip them out so they could upgrade the wiring, plumbing, temperature control and air quality. Historically, Grandmaster Nehi forbid it, because the cannons might be needed someday.” 

“Grandmaster _Nehi_?” Nehi had been grandmaster when _Yoda_ had been young. 

“I took some classes in historical engineering. There’s some great graffiti in the access tunnels complaining about it.” 

Obi-Wan cocked his head, obviously sensing something in the Force. “Do any of them work today?” 

“They haven’t been used in centuries,” Jitters told them. “But after Master Nehi passed into the Force the later grandmasters compromised with Engineering. They could use some of the space in the tower if they could redesign the cannons to work in less space. It became part of the Temple Building Codes. If we wanted to take things out, particularly defense, we had to be sure the function was preserved.”

“I’ve never seen the Tower cannons,” Romo mused. 

“I can show you sometime, and Master Bert gives an annual tour of ancient and obsolete Temple infrastructure so more of us are familiar with it.” He looked at Obi-Wan. “Like the control room over the salle Master Silvanus was talking about. It’s a control station for utilities now, but it was originally where the defense systems were run from.” 

“That makes sense to put that close to the Security Complex,” Obi-Wan nodded. 

“It used to _be_ the Security Complex,” Jitters explained. “Battlemasters in the old days used to sit up there and jump down into the salle to break up sparring Jedi if they got too carried away and needed to cool off. There were also stun guns in the ceiling. And the main salle can still be barricaded if there is an invasion. Even _Yoda_ won’t let us change that.” 

“Isn’t that more dangerous to us if one of us turns to the Dark Side?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“You’d think,” Jitters shrugged. “But as I said, the salle can be barricaded, not made inpenetrable. There are access tunnels all through the Temple, but a lot of them are in the training complex, usually opening into the observation booths and lounges. Part of the reason is to let masters and instructors go from salle to salle unseen, but also to prevent a tragedy if someone gets a screw loose. Do not take hostages in the salle. We can get in there.” 

“Wow.” 

Obi-Wan blinked, as if he had been distracted, but Jitters had seen Jedi strong in the Unifying Force so that sort of thing before. “That’s really important. We need that.” 

“Oh, we have used it before,” Jitters said. “But I can’t talk details.” 

“Wow.” Romo nodded, then gestured at the lightsaber bench that had been set up. “When Jitters said you were coming, we set up a workbench so we could analyze your blade if that’s okay.” 

“It’s fine,” Obi-Wan shrugged. “Jitters asked me to bring the plans. Master Noughten was very helpful with the design and Master Igneous put up with me while I fussed over the stones.” He looked at their eager faces, noting that several other party goers had been eavesdropping. “Do you usually study lightsabers at your parties?” 

“No,” Jitters replied. “Sometimes we work on droids. Sometimes we work on comms. Sometimes Master Bert gives us a new design challenge as a group, like the time we had to design a cooling machine for making ice cream faster or working with it in a temperature-controlled state. We ended up redesigning everything behind the counter at Slo Min’s soda shop. Another time we ended up redesigning the greenhouse units so we could grow more food in the Temple in smaller spaces. But designs like that take longer than a party. We just get ideas tinkering with the problem all together during the party.” 

“I hope he wasn’t planning a different problem for you.” 

“Not this year.” Romo shook his head. “He’s been hanging out with Battlemaster Drallig and is determined to get us in shape in case we run into a Sith. If we can’t fight one ourselves, he wants us to have the best weapons we can.” 

“A multi-crystal blade isn’t always the best choice for a given user.” 

“I know,” Jitters said. “But getting engineers excited about sabers gets us to go into the salle and practice. We can get lax about that sort of thing.”

Obi-Wan grew solemn. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea to let those skills lapse right now, even if you don’t work much outside the Temple. I don’t know if the man I fought was a Sith, but I didn’t survive because he lacked skill. I lost the fight.” 

Jitters and Romo shared an alarmed look. “How would you do now with your fancy new saber?” 

“He held off me _and_ Master Jinn simultaneously. I’ve been training but I’m not so cocky as to think I’d win.” 

Romo looked suitably sobered. “Maybe we should take that class Master Bert was talking about.” 

Jitters nodded. “The field knights say he spars with Battlemaster Drallig and the Sith was no joke.” 

“It wasn’t,” Obi-Wan confirmed. 

Romo looked them both over. “I’ll take the class, but maybe I should look into those tower cannons.” 

Obi-Wan shook his head suddenly, moving as if he had stumbled, though they hadn’t been moving. “Yes, you should really do that.”

"I will.”

“Oh, _Force!_ ” a voice called from the food table. “Who made Master Ell’s meatballs?” A woman with an elaborate bun decorated with small, blinking lights was looking over the room, trying to figure out which one of them had cooked. 

Obi-Wan raised his hand. “I brought the meatballs, Master Leila, but I learned the recipe from Master Tahl.” 

“Obi-Wan!” Leila came over to give him a hug. “Master Bert said they were going to try to get you to come.” She pulled away, smiling. “Master Tahl’s master used to date one of Master Ell’s former padawans. I once asked about it and Moosie said they took hours to make.” 

Obi-Wan snorted. “It takes hours for the flavors to meld together. If you buy the pre-cooked bantha meatballs, it takes five minutes to set up.” 

Leila laughed. “I guess I asked Moosie the wrong question, not for the first time.” 

“Those are Master Ell’s meatballs?” Cynna asked, a strange lightsaber clutched in her hands. 

“Yes. I haven’t had them in _years_ ,” Leila explained. 

“The recipe is very easy,” Obi-Wan reiterated. 

“I’ll have to get it from you later,” Leila grinned. “I hear all the engineers want to see your baby.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Apparently.” 

"You’ve been a saber-building star for a while now, Obi-Wan, don’t be modest. It’s not every initiate that gets a saber in the display case.”

“It was a training saber,” Obi-Wan protested.

“Oh!” Cynna looked stunned. “I knew I had seen your name before!” 

“He was Master Ell’s last protégé.” Leila beamed at the knight. “He would be so proud of you.”

Obi-Wan looked down. “I hope so.” 

“I’ve got the tester!” Cynna held up the saber which looked less like a hilt and more like the bones and guts of a lightsaber loosely held together by safety wire and only half the casing. 

“Is that weapon field-certified?” Obi-Wan asked. It looked as if one could lose their fingertips if the hilt was grabbed wrong while lit. 

“Oh, Sweetheart, no!” Master Leila explained. “That’s a workshop blade only, it’s used to test the stability and harmonics of other blades and as a reference blade for calibration. This one is adaptable, that’s why you can see some of it’s innards.” 

“It’s fascinating.”

“It was Moosie’s. You can change the blade length, tune it to different degrees of harmony, and change the blade strength. Good for fine-tuning blades, troubleshooting, and testing integrity, but very lousy to fight with. No grips, you’d lose your fingers.” 

Jitters looked around the room. “I think everyone is here, if you wanted to demonstrate your blade now.” 

“Food’s here!” A tall man with salt-and-pepper hair who had been standing near the door opened it to let in two senior padawans pushing a cart loaded down with fragrant trays of hot food. “You want to feed your guest of honor before you pick his brain about his lightsaber, Jitters.” 

Obi-Wan blushed. So did Cynna and Jitters. 

Leila laughed. “Don’t worry, Obi-Wan. Your saber speaks for itself.” She put a protective arm around him and called out to the older man who was setting out the food. “Don’t pressure him, Bert. He’s never been to one of your parties before.” She looked back at Obi-Wan. “I promise, I won’t let them make you do all the Kanu exercises for an audience.” 

“Forget the exercises,” Master Bert called back as he set out serving spoons. “I want him to take a look at _The Siren_.” 

“The what?” Obi-Wan asked, as the rest of the knights and padawans gawked at him. 

“We’ll show you after dinner.” Master Bert put on his best teacher scowl. “Alright, all of you go wash your hands, there should be no grease on your hands until _after_ we eat. No food until you pass inspection, you gearheads.” Several of the engineers, Romo included, trudged over to the sink to wash up while Master Bert sniffed suspiciously at the electric pot, then picked up a meatball on a toothpick and cautiously put it in his mouth. 

“Holy Kriff! Master Ell’s meatballs!” 

Leila laughed, giving Obi-Wan a fond look. “Happy Light Night Obi-Wan.” 

* * *

Dinner was unexpectedly delicious, and the engineers descended on it like a horde of locusts. Obi-Wan soon found himself sitting between Leila and Jitters, across from Cynna, Bert, and an Eng Corp tech who never spoke a word, but seemed pleased to be there. The meatballs went quickly after Master Bert’s endorsement. 

“Have you ever met Master Bert before, Obi-Wan?” Jitters asked when he realized he had neglected to introduce them. 

“I have, well, sort of.” He turned to address the master directly. “You taught a class to address technological challenges in the field for those of us who are less mechanically inclined. I must say, Master Ogthorne, the lessons I learned in your classes have been invaluable in the field, though I wouldn’t expect you to remember me.” 

Jitters, Romo, and Cynna burst out laughing. The technician snickered ‘Ogthorne’ under his breath.

Master Bert looked him in the eye. “You’re a knight now and an honorary gearhead, Obi-Wan. You can call me Master Bert.” He looked at his underlings who were still giggling like ninnies. “The students outside the department are more formal, especially in the Dip Corp.” 

Jitters wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “You didn’t call Master Leila by her surname.”

Leila snorted. “That’s because he met me when he was ten and didn’t learn my surname until he was a junior padawan.” 

“For a while I though that _was_ your surname,” Obi-Wan admitted. 

“We do seem to suffer a lot of name confusion in the C&W,” Leila mused. “Me. Master Ell. Iggs. Noughty.” 

Bert laughed. “Don’t worry, Obi-Wan. These gearheads can use an example of formal manners once in a while. And yes, I _do_ remember you. I don’t forget young people trying to keep up with Qui-Gon Jinn, but I had heard about you and your saber from both Leila and Master Ell.” He whistled. “He really wished he could have lived long enough to see what you’d do when you moved up to multi-crystal blades.” 

Obi-Wan looked as if he didn’t quite believe that. “He died when I was eleven. He helped me build my training saber and saw me build my first real saber, but he died before I became a padawan, and I’d have to agree with the docents that I wasn’t intelligent enough for the Eng Corp if I hadn’t.”

Leila gave him a sharp look. “Who the hell told you that? The only reason Iggs didn’t try to get your transferred to the Eng Corps for C&W was because Yoda already had a back up master lined up for you if Qui-Gon Jinn refused to take you. You can read the stones. You could retire from the field today and still have a career in the C&W.” 

“I’ve never taken the higher-level saber building classes,” Obi-Wan protested. “Just the workshops.” 

“You don’t need to.” She looked at Bert. “We should definitely let him have a crack at _The Siren_.” 

“Am I allowed to ask what it is?” Obi-Wan asked.

Cynna gave him another skeptical look. “ _The Siren_ is an old, multi-crystal saber that was built by Moosie Kanu that took a hard whack from a beskar club. The crystals were recovered intact, but the alignment brackets were destroyed. It was so badly damaged it couldn’t be matched to any of the plans on file, and no one’s been able to get it to sing again. Apparently it used to sing loud. Really loud.” 

“And you want me to try to fix it?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Or troubleshoot it,” Master Bert suggested. “They haven’t been able to get the stones to harmonize.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “I can try, but I’ve only made one multi-crystal saber.”

Bert leaned close, conspiratorily. “So have the rest of them, if they have at all. They don’t tend to use them in the field, much less need to replace them.” 

The technician snorted. 

“Well, I’m willing to try.” 

Bert and Leila shared a look. 

“Have the rest of you tried?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Yes, it’s a long-standing engineering challenge,” Jitters explained. “Everyone has taken a crack at it. Some of have gotten it to ignite, some of us have gotten two of the stones to harmonize, but not all of them, but no one can get them all to sing together.”

“How many are there?” Obi-Wan asked.

“You’ll see,” Leila assured him. “How is Knight Vos adjusting to that gorgeous new saber I know you helped him build?” 

Obi-Wan snorted, despite himself. “He had to tie back his hair this week because he keeps singeing it. He’s still in the flailing stage of adjustment.” 

Both Leila and Bert cracked up.

* * *

The engineers had oohed and ahhed over his lightsaber for several minutes, with the exception of Cynna, who wanted to know which Kanu designs he had based it on and how he had made it water resistant. She was momentarily awed into silence when they hooked up the oscilloscope, astonished at how smooth the blade was, none of the usual skips or extra, slightly out of tune notes in the sound. Master Bert then recorded both the tester and Master Leila’s blade with the oscilloscope and superimposed the outputs. Obi-Wan’s lightsaber definitely lived up to the hype. 

At Cynna’s request, Obi-Wan struck the tester’s beam at a variety of angles and settings for both blades while the engineer recorded the sounds. Obi-Wan could hear that the sounds changed, and with some combinations there was the characteristic clang, but he did not understand the significance beyond whether the tester blade was harmonizing. Cynna looked ready to run back to the workshop to process the data when Master Bert brought out a well-worn metal box and presented Obi-Wan with the corpse of _The Siren_. She stayed. 

Obi-Wan opened the box and looked inside dubiously. It was clear many repair attempts had been made over the years, and it was no longer clear what was original to the weapon and what had come after. 

Obi-Wan looked at Master Bert. “Do you have any gloves?” 

Leila grinned and pulled a packet of disposable gloves from her pocket. Obi-Wan put on a pair, then carefully began to dig out the stones from the hilt and the wreckage. Eventually he had four filthy stones arranged in a dish. He began looking through the bench’s drawers for cleanser, cleaning dishes and the high-grade tissues used to clean stones without scratching them. 

“He’s washing them?” Romo sounded puzzled. 

“You can’t get a good reading on dirty stones,” Obi-Wan explained. “Even fingerprints can interfere. They can absorb or refract light during the tests and can mask weak psychometric features.” 

It was clear several of the engineers thought that was bantha poodoo. 

“Moosie Kanu said the stones don’t like to be touched,” Leila reminded them. 

Several remained skeptical. Jitters looked intrigued, having watched Vos spend months struggling to determine which psychometric sensations he was supposed to be paying attention to. 

Once the stones were clean and dry, Obi-Wan put each stone into its own dish, removed his gloves, then felt the stones individually, using telekinesis to move them around, turning them over to examine them from each angle. He puzzled over them for several minutes. 

“Are you sure all four of these stones were in the original weapon?” he asked at last. 

A few of the engineers made scoffing sounds. 

“Why do you ask?” Leila gave several of the knights a quelling look. 

Obi-Wan slid one of the stones further away from the other three, though there didn’t appear to be any difference between them. All four were a bright yellow color and were all about the same size. 

“They aren’t all the same type of stone,” Obi-Wan explained. “These three are all the same type of stone, citrine if I’m not mistaken, all from the same planet, probably from the same vein.” He gestured toward the one he had set aside. “This one is of a similar size, but a stronger stone, a yellow sapphire I think, and very, very clear. We could build a perfectly functional single-crystal blade with the sapphire or a multi-crystal blade with the citrines, but if we use all four of them together, it would have to be either a mixed-stone saber or a convertible saber.”

Romo looked back and forth between the dishes. The stones looked the same to him. “Are you sure?” 

Obi-Wan tipped the bench lamp, then levitated the sapphire and one of the citrines into the air so the light illuminated the stones from behind. It was subtle, but they were different shades of yellow. 

The engineers mumbled amongst themselves. 

“Also, were any of the stones damaged?” Obi-Wan asked. “Something feels off.” 

“Wait a minute,” one of the knights asked. “Wouldn’t the hilt tell you what kind of saber it is?” 

Obi-Wan used the Force to lift the hilt out of the box. Several pieces fell off as he did, and it rattled. “No. It’s clear that many different people handled it, and it’s no longer certain what was original and what is repair attempts. The stones can tell us what ways they can come together, much more than the hilt can. Maybe if the damage was new.” 

A half-smile played on Leila’s lips as the hilt was lowered into the box. Obi-Wan let his hand hover over each of the citrines in turn before he used the Force to raise one to eye level, scrutinizing it for several minutes before he began examining it with a magnifying lens, making a clicking noise with his tongue when he found what he was looking for. 

“What?” Jitters asked. 

“It has a chip taken out of it.” Obi-Wan pointed out the damaged spot in the magnified image. “It’s very small and can be polished out, but it’s preventing the stones from harmonizing completely.”

The engineers mumbled amongst themselves again. 

“You wouldn’t have been able to see it with the fingerprints on it, it’s very small.” Obi-Wan looked at Master Bert. “If you want them to sing together, it has to be smoothed out.” 

Bert gestured at the polishing wheels on the bench.

“Are you sure you want me to try?” Obi-Wan asked. “You said this was a genuine Kanu blade.” 

“No,” Bert corrected. “It’s a genuine Kanu wreck. The only reason its not considered utter junk is because it has the potential to be rebuilt, not repaired. If you think it needs to be polished, please do.” 

There were gasps and whispers as Obi-Wan took a deep breath, selected the proper polishing wheel, put on goggles, started it up, then very gently touched the gem to the abrasive surface. He checked it a few times between light polishes before he was satisfied, then washed the stone again, never once touching the stone with his hands. Bert gave Leila a sharp look when Obi-Wan put all three cintrine stones into the same dish and began moving them around each other, slight twitches of his fingers the only physical sign of his telekinesis. 

Jitters _really_ wanted to get him in the body scanner for Phase 2. 

Eventually, Obi-Wan was satisfied with what the stones alone could tell him, and he began loading them into the beam path within the safety box, using his inherent Force sense to place them rather than making physical measurements. Several of the engineers looked utterly baffled. When Obi-Wan was satisfied with their rough positions, he selected one of the testing lasers and positioned it at the point where the power supply would be relative to the stones in an intact saber. He turned around to look at his audience. 

“Does everyone have safety goggles?” 

The engineers scrambled to get eye protection so Obi-Wan could run the tests. Leila and Bert pulled their own pairs of safety glasses out of their robe pockets and put them on. When everyone had proper eye protection, Obi-Wan flipped the dark lenses down over his eyes on his safety goggles and turned on the light, first checking to be sure the output hit the target at the far end of the safety box, then hit the mister button that sent a fine spray of droplets along the potential beam path to see how the laser jumped between the crystals. After the check, Obi-Wan looked at the output pattern, using the Force to move the stones relative to each other and as a group, moving them closer or further from the laser until the output image was sharp, strong and steady. 

“That’s your multi-crystal blade,” Obi-Wan tapped the mister again and the beam was much stronger, almost none of it lost, very focused through all three stones. Obi-Wan turned his hand and one of the stones twisted slightly in the clamps and the beam brightened further. 

The engineers began to chatter furiously among themselves. Leila looked delighted. 

Obi-Wan turned off the laser, selected another, then put the yellow sapphire into the beam path, trying it at several different locations relative to the citrines. He set the second laser to pulse, moving the stone minutely back and forth until he found the optimal placement to create a light path that didn’t interfere with the multi-crystal blade.

“There,” he said at last. “That’s the single crystal blade.” He hit the mister to show the second beam path with the pulsing light, then turned on the first laser. Both outputs were perfectly superimposed over each other but did not cross before they would have exited the hilt. 

The engineers stared at the two beams, amazed at the potential lightsaber that had been constructed almost entirely by feel, and with the Force sense, determining what the crystals could do before the infrastructure would be designed, rather than trying to reverse engineer it from the wreckage.

“Something is missing.” Obi-Wan turned off the laser and put on another pair of gloves, then lay the bulk of the shattered hilt on the worktable, feeling the different components, separating out anything that felt new and looking at what was left. He moved a few broken pieces into place, revealing a scorched hole in the hilt that wasn’t obvious in its shattered state.

“It looks like it actually took a hit from a stray blaster bolt or ricochet that weakened the hilt which is probably why the physical blow was so damaging.” 

“Master Noughten thought so too,” Leila reported. “But the Jedi wielding it didn’t notice at the time.” 

Obi-Wan lifted the husk of the saber up to his eye, trying to visualize the inner mechanisms when they had been functional. “Why did they want it to be so loud?” 

Master Bert snorted. “It was a weapon of intimidation, not of stealth.” 

“Was it loud in all configurations or just sometimes?”

“It ranged from loud to very, very loud.” 

“Hmm.” Obi-Wan put down the metal wreck, then unscrewed the knob at the end of the hilt, peering inside. The metal was very thick and dense, but hollow, with no evidence of balance weights. 

"Interesting.” He cocked his head and stared at the configuration of stones. “There’s another way they can come together,” he mused. “I can’t quite see it, but there’s some kind of sliding mechanism in the hilt that moved the stones. It wasn’t necessary to switch between the two beam paths, because they could be in close proximity in this arrangement and not interfere with each other. I would think it was just the sapphire moving to a higher power position, it has a higher power capacity, even more than the multi-citrine blade, but it’s not a back-and-forth position, it rotates.” 

Jitters picked up the husk and examined it, finding the remains of the brackets, and seeing the inner and outer layers of the hilt and how the inner one could rotate within the outer one, moving the stones relative to each other. He pointed it out to the others who quietly chattered amongst themselves. 

“It’s convertible,” Obi-Wan continued. “But not just between single and multi-crystal. It had a mixed stone configuration too, but I can’t quite see it.” He removed the lasers, then closed the safety box, securing the latches, then turned on the oscilloscope. “Can we test the blades?”

The engineers gasped. 

“What blades?” one of them finally asked. “There’s no hardware! And it could blow up!” 

Leila leaned over and ran her hand along the configuration of stones, eyes closed. She gave Obi-Wan an odd look. “The input isn’t in the same place.”

“I know.” Obi-Wan held up the knob from the end of the hilt. “There are brackets for two power emitters, not one. There must have been a switch to change between them. But there isn’t room for a third emitter, so the slide must have moved the stones to create the third beam path for one of the emitters already in place. I suspect the sapphire moved relative to the citrines, but it’s possible all the stones moved, or the emitter moved as well.” 

Leila and Bert shared a look. 

“Fire it up.” Bert glared at the assorted engineers. “Everyone back up and pull down the safety glass.”

Obi-Wan did not question why the engineers had a safety shield in their conference room. The near silent technician made sure the leftovers were covered to save the food in case the crystals blew up. 

Obi-Wan joined them behind the shield while Leila passed out ear plugs. When everyone was ready and in place, he flicked on the power source. A brilliant amber blade shot out of the sapphire. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, listening, while the engineers watched the oscilloscope. After a moment he shut off the first power source, then turned on the one next to it and the citrines worked together to produce a lighter yellow blade, singing in harmony. Even across the room, the engineers could see the oscilloscope showed a clear, pure sound. The stones were harmonizing. Obi-Wan cut the power again, and then reopened the safety box. He set up the laser to show the beam path through the citrines, then unclamped the sapphire, staring at it, twisting and turning it in the air, trying to figure out how else it could fit. The engineers began to chatter amongst themselves, wondering aloud how the internal mechanisms must have looked. A few of them went over to the large design board on the far wall, starting a rough sketch of where the stones were relative to each other. 

Obi-Wan moved the still twisting and turning stone into the beam path, tapping the mister intermittently, watching to see if the beam changed. When nothing obvious happened, he turned off the laser and returned the sapphire to its original position and turned on the single crystal beam path. After a moment he moved the sapphire again and this time the beam split, no longer directed at the target, but bouncing around the room. 

“Everyone keep your safety glasses on,” Obi-Wan warned as he began twisting the sapphire within the beam path, moving it backward and forward. He switched back and forth between the two beam paths several times before he turned off both lasers and turned to the group.

“I think I see it now,” he said quietly. 

“What do you see, Obi-Wan?” Leila asked, just as quietly. 

“The third beam path.” He turned on the first laser and the multi-crystal beam path lit up the citrines. “I thought the stones were moving relative to each other, but only the sapphire needs to move.” He turned on the second laser. “The trick is the power emitter has to move with the sapphire, not the citrines. If the multi-crystal emitter rotates out of the way, and both the single stone emitter and the sapphire rotate inside the hilt.” He moved both the sapphire and the laser, twisting the gem more than the light source. “The beam splits instead of focusing and enters the citrines, then refocuses into a mixed-stone blade.” He clamped the sapphire into this new configuration, and the output image was sharp and clear. 

The engineers stared at the third beam path, astounded. If all four stones had had the same composition as they had always assumed it made no sense, but if the fourth stone was in fact a hardier gem that could not only focus a beam, but split it depending on the angle, the configuration could produce a very powerful blade. And a loud one. 

“Do you want to fire it up?” Leila asked quietly.

Obi-Wan made minute adjustments with the Force, then turned off the laser and nodded. “Yes.” 

“Alright! Everyone behind the screen!” Bert ordered. “Earplugs in. This could get loud!” 

Everyone gathered behind the shield again. Obi-Wan latched the safety box again before joining them and then turned on the power supply. A golden blade shot out of the crystals, the color in between that of the two previous blades. The sound was noticeably louder than the other configurations, and the oscilloscope showed a textbook readout of a mixed-stone harmonized blade, but even with earplugs in, it did not produce a sound worthy of the name _The Siren_. 

Obi-Wan cut the power, then opened the back end of the safety box near the power supply. He picked up the hollow knob from the base of the hilt and positioned it just behind the power supply. He fired up the power again and this time the sound was much louder, the hollow ball amplifying the sound and projecting it out. Obi-Wan moved the ball back and forth and the sound rose and fell, a powerful warning to all those who would dare cross this blade. Obi-Wan cut the power.

The engineers cheered. 

Obi-Wan looked at the floor, a little embarrassed.

“Wait!” Cynna called. “How do we turn _this_ ,” she gestured toward the set up. “Into an actual functioning lightsaber?” 

Obi-Wan snorted. “With a lot of work.” He looked back at his handiwork. “But that’s my best guess as to how they came together. The citrine brackets would be fairly simple, but the sliding and twisting on the sapphire would be tricky to get right. Once that is figured out, the external hilt would be determined by the underlying structures and the optimal position for the pommel would have to be determined empirically to make sure the sound waves didn’t shift the beam path.” 

Leila smiled like a proud mother. “And that, young knights, is why I told you to look at the stones, not the hilt. You have to know what the stones can do before you figure out how to get them to do it.” 

“That was amazing,” Jitters crowed. 

“No wonder they wouldn’t harmonize together as a quad multi-crystal.” Cynna turned to Leila and Bert. “Did you know the stones were different all this time?” 

“Yes,” Leila admitted. “I saw them years ago before they acquired fifteen-odd years of mechanical crud.”

“No,” Bert admitted. “But I knew that ignoring the stones was the root of the problem, and that they would have to be analyzed to solve the mystery.” 

“Also, I identified the original plans years ago,” Leila chuckled. “No one was looking in the mixed-stone designs because you only saw four yellow stones and didn’t realize one was different.” She gave Obi-Wan another hug. “And you’re right, it uses a twisting, double-layered hilt to realign the stones.” 

“You found the _plans?_ ” Bert asked, incredulous. “ _When?_ ” 

“When you first asked me to consult and I realized that was a sapphire.” She shook her head. “None of your students asked me to read the stones, they only ever asked about Moosie’s designs. Moosie always started with the stones, not the design. He let the stones tell him what they could be. If you could no longer see the design, you should have asked the stones.” 

Obi-Wan looked at the hilt again. “If the stones had been more severely damaged, the old design wouldn’t have worked anyway. As it was that citrine needed to be polished or replaced. It won’t be exactly the same as the old hilt, the stones have changed, but I think that’s how it would have worked.”

Master Bert began collecting the loose parts of the shattered hilt. Obi-Wan put the stones into individual envelopes so they wouldn’t rub against each other, taking care to label which ones were citrine and which was the yellow sapphire, before passing them over to Master Bert. 

Master Leila smiled at him fondly. “Master Ell would be so proud of you.” 

Master Bert held out the box to the knight. “Would you like to take a crack at putting it all together?” 

Obi-Wan looked down at the assorted parts. It felt like a great challenge, but he was a busy young field knight. “It might take me years to finish it,” he admitted. 

“It might,” Bert shrugged. “But I think you can.” 

Obi-Wan reached out, feeling the rightness in the Force. “Thank you, Master Bert.” 

“So, what are we going to try to fix at the next party?” Romo asked.

Bert and Leila shared a look, then burst out laughing. 

“Don’t worry, Gearheads,” Master Bert grinned. “The C&W has quite a large collection of broken Kanu blades, especially since Master Ell passed into the Force, and he only helped repair them if the owners still worked in the field or were instructors. We have more where that came from.” 

“And next time, start with the stones,” Leila advised. 

Jitters looked Obi-Wan up and down. “Are you doing anything for Summer Solstice?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone who wanted more lightsaber construction enjoyed that. 
> 
> Any thoughts about it? Did it makes sense? Did you enjoy the rather geeky engineer party? Yes, some of the engineers can cook, but sometimes they just get distracted or overthink it, so it's not something they really cultivate it as a group.


	4. These Wonderful Things are the Things We'll Remember All Through Our Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The retired residents of the South Terrace and the initiates take part in the celebrations, Master Ulli gets a cold but there is still a puppet show, Jitters learns to cook, the knights get ready for their party, there are way too many cookies, Master Monti is not sure how he got roped into this, Brother Ospen is impressed, the monster is thwarted by a zipper, even Jedi Initiates appreciate a good poop joke, Anakin learns more about the Force, the masters and uses for Breggle, and Debap and Master Bes get a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from _Sleigh Ride_ by Leroy Anderson and Mitchell Parish. 
> 
> Here is a version by the Ronettes, but if you prefer the instrumental version, I rather liked the second one conducted by John Williams. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DkXIJe8CaIc
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OATi34PKNPw
> 
> I'm sorry it took so long to get back to this, January was extremely busy at work!
> 
> Here is a recipe similar to the one Obi-Wan and Jitters are making. I've never made this one before, but I've had similar and they are good. 
> 
> https://www.culinaryhill.com/crockpot-meatballs-with-grape-jelly-sauce/

“Good morning!” Bes sat down at his usual spot for breakfast, grinning. “How is everyone?”

“Just fine, thank you.” Denna was warming her hands on her morning cup of caff, waiting for breakfast to be served. “Weren’t the lights beautiful last night?” 

“They really were,” Bes agreed. “And I loved this year’s exhibits on the Senate Green.” 

“It reminded me of field work,” Denna mused. “I can’t remember the last time I left Coruscant. It was nice to be reminded of what’s out there in the stars.” 

“It’s even nicer to be home in two hours,” Bes replied. 

“I can’t argue with that,” Denna laughed. 

“Good morning,” Si trailed a hand over Bes’s shoulder as he passed on the way to his seat. “How were the lights?” 

“Wonderful.” Bes lay his hand on Simet’s wrist when he sat down. “You should have come.” 

Simet sighed. “Next time,” he nodded. “Next time I will. Assuming I’m still alive.” 

“Everything went fine, no trouble at all,” Bes assured him. “We didn’t even get out of the shuttle.”

Simet nodded. “And you made it back, safe and sound.” 

“We did,” Bes gave him a reassuring smile. “We got to hear the Coruscant University Chorus, _and_ the Chamber Singers.” 

“I hope they were less screechy than the Initiates Choir.” 

Denna snorted. “There are hawkbat flocks less screechy than the Initiates Choir.” 

“Oh, I _know_ ,” Simet agreed. 

Sister Vella came over with Bes’s usual caff and Simet’s herbal tea. 

“Good morning, and thank you, Sister. You didn’t need to bring me my tea.” With his difficulty carrying things, Simet usually just waited for his tea to be brought on his tray. 

The nun bowed her head in acknowledgement, then began to rapidly sign. 

“My plans are flexible, what did you need?” Simet asked. 

Vella took a deep breath and signed again, grateful that Simet’s years training Jayzen had given him fluency in Sign, even if he could no longer sign back well. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I do hope Ulli will be feeling better soon.” 

Bes looked up abruptly. “What’s wrong with Ulli?” he asked, having missed the first part of the conversation. 

“He’ll be fine,” Vella slurred. “He just has a cold.” 

“What does that have to do with me?” Simet asked. He and Ulli were acquainted, but not particularly close. 

Vella sighed and began signing again, a little too fast for Bes to follow completely. 

“Ulli can’t do the puppet show because he’s a biohazard?” Simet blinked, then held up his shaking hands. “Why do you think _I_ can help?” 

Vella grimaced. “I know you can’t use Ulli’s puppets,” she conceded. “But I thought you could use the large Breggle puppets to illustrate the story.” 

Simet raised his eyebrows. “Why me?” It wasn’t as if the monks and nuns didn’t also play Breggle. 

“Because the show is this afternoon,” Vella sighed. “And we won’t have time to practice.” 

“You think _I_ won’t need time to practice?” Simet asked, a bit taken aback. 

“You are a dancer,” Vella explained. “You can improvise. And you used to use Breggle models to demonstrate techniques when you were the Battlemaster. I thought you might be able to do it more easily.” 

Simet couldn’t deny he _had_ been able to do the kind of movements required, decades ago. He also had played many different types of Breggle games and had been doing so again now that there was renewed interest in it but using stones to model body movement had not been one of them and was very different from the more standard games with plain stones. 

“I haven’t had to do that since before you took vows, and I haven’t done it regularly since you were a padawan.” 

“I know it’s been a long time,” Vella nodded. “But with Master Ulli sick, I thought you might be able to step in.” 

SImet crossed his arms in his sleeves, thinking through the logistics. Master Yoda _was_ trying to get more of the young people interested in Breggle. 

“What story are you telling, how long would it take, do we have the Breggle puppets at hand, and do we have time to rehearse?” 

“Brother Ospen said to let you pick the story, so you can control the length and how complicated it is, he started cleaning off the old puppets before breakfast, and we can practice after breakfast.” 

Si thought it over again. “I could only do one character, maybe two, at a time. I would need help with any props or other objects.”

“I could help if it’s something simple,” Bes offered. 

“Me too, if I can sit down,” said Denna. 

“I will see if I can get a few more volunteers,” Vella told them as the brothers brought out their breakfast trays. She made the signs for _thank you_ , then hurried off to find Ospen. 

“You’ll really do it?” Bes asked. “You do know they are initiates, yes?” 

Denna cracked up. 

“Yes, I know. It’s a good opportunity to get the young people into Breggle. But I don’t know if I’ll be able to pull this off, and we’d have to keep the story simple.” With a sigh, he turned to his breakfast, picking up a protein cube with a shakier hand than usual. 

“Bes and I can help, Simet. We’ll figure it out,” Denna assured him. “And these children haven’t seen much beyond Creche Breggle. They’ll be easier to impress.”

Si chuckled. “Good point.” 

* * *

“I really don’t know if this is a good idea.” Jitters looked over Obi-Wan’s small kitchen. There was something baking in the oven, something was simmering on the stove and there was a covered bowl on the counter that he was pretty sure had something going on inside. 

“I promise,” Obi-Wan reassured him. “It’s really not as difficult as you think.” 

“If you say so,” Jitters sounded uncertain. Obi-Wan had loaned him an apron to wear. That made it all seem messy and complicated. 

“Okay, first we take out the electric pot, set it to low, and give it a quick spray with oil so it will be easy to clean.” Obi-Wan demonstrated these steps.

“Okay.” It was simple so far. 

Obi-Wan picked up a bottle of spicey sauce. “This is the sauce I use, and Master Tahl uses, but the secret is to just use one you like.” 

“Okay,” Jitters nodded. This made sense. 

Obi-Wan opened the bottle and patiently waited while it slowly emptied into the electric pot. 

“You’re putting the whole thing in?” Jitters asked as Obi-Wan smacked the bottom of the bottle to get the last bit out. 

“Yes. It’s really important to use sauce you like because there’s a lot in it.” When the bottle was empty, he picked up a jar and a scraper, then held it up for Jitters to inspect. “The next ingredient.”

“Jelly?”

“Yes. In this case, grape jelly. You specifically want jelly, not jam or preserves. You _can_ pick a different fruit, but it should be jelly. No seeds, no crushed fruit and the pectin helps build texture in the sauce.” 

When Jitters nodded, Obi-Wan opened the jar and used the spatula to scrap all the jelly into the pot, then began to stir over low heat. 

Jitters looked around the counter, but there were no other ingredients sitting out. “What do we do next?” he asked. 

“We keep stirring until the jelly melts and the mixture is smooth and not lumpy.” He lifted the scraper and watched the smooth sauce run off it. “That looks good,” he nodded, then put the lid on the pot. “Now we let it get warm for a bit.” He stepped over to the deep chiller and took out a bag of frozen bantha meatballs, then put it on the counter. “This is the most important part: _PRE-COOKED_. If they aren’t pre-cooked, you have to cook them before you move on.” 

“How?” Jitters asked.

“However it says on the package,” Obi-Wan shrugged. “I like to get the small ones. They fit on a toothpick better and most people can eat it in one bite.” 

“Small meatballs, pre-cooked. Got it.” Jitters noded. 

“Okay.” Obi-Wan opened the bag, then took the lid off the pot and carefully poured the meatballs in, trying not to splatter the sauce. “Once they’re all in, you carefully stir until they’re all coated, then simmer on low for at least one hour, but two to three is better.” He put the lid on, made sure the temperature was on low, then noted the time. “Some brands will release more water than others, so if the sauce gets runny, you can add a cornstarch slurry before you serve them, but this brand seems to work just right. And that’s it. Come back in two hours if you want to be the guinea pig.” 

“That’s it? Really?” 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan began cleaning up and washing his hands. “Hours to simmer, minutes to set up.” 

Jitters looked stunned. “Huh. I think I could actually do that.” 

“I’m very confident you can.”

“Master Bert will be thrilled.” 

Obi-Wan grinned as he reached for the pot on the stove and gave the contents a swirl with a spoon. Jitters could smell warm spices. 

“What’s that?”

“Spiced cider. Kressa asked me to make some for the party. You can do it in the electric pot too, but you need a bigger one and I don’t have one. Kressa says she does, but she’s cooking something else in it, so we can’t transfer it there until it’s done.” 

“What’s in it?” Jitters asked, peering into the murky depths. 

“The same spices you would find in spiced apple rolls, brown sugar and citrus. Quinlan is making some sort of punch with alcohol from a recipe he got from Slo Min, so Kressa asked me to make an alcohol-free drink.” 

“What else is there to do?” Jitters asked. 

Obi-Wan looked around, thinking. “The casseroles are in the oven, I have a bunch of vegetables to chop up, and I was going to bake some bar cookies when the casseroles were done if I have time. Kani and Kressa were icing sugar cookies, which are great on looks, but short on volume, so when I asked, they said extra sweets would be good. We can bring the leftovers to the dances tomorrow.” 

“I could probably help with the vegetables if all you need is someone to cut them.” 

“That would be a big help, but I don’t want you to feel obligated.” 

Jitters shrugged. “I can _assist_ in the kitchen. I used to cut up stuff when my master cooked. I just don’t plan it all out well, and don’t multitask well when fire is involved.” 

Obi-Wan laughed. “No one does when they first start out.” He began to get out the vegetables and the trays. “The ones in sealed bags are pre-washed, but not these. They should be cut so they can be dipped, but the shape isn’t important. The trays are for the veggies, just leave the middle empty for the dip bowls.”

“You really know how to cook. A lot.” 

Obi-Wan snorted. “The Dip Corp has classes in appetizers, though we are required to know how to make a few main courses as well. Mostly they want us to know a few small bites to smooth over tense negotiations or keep people from starving. Hungry diplomats are cranky diplomats. We also have to learn how to _not_ accidentally poison anyone.”

“Did your master teach you any of this?” 

“A little. Some of the dip recipes I learned from him. Master Tahl taught me more of the traditional holiday dishes. Bant had very different tastes in holiday fare, being a Mon Calamari, so she would invite Master Jinn and I over to help eat the food she liked. Did your master cook for the holidays?” 

“We did hard-boiled eggs with filling,” Jitters explained. “It was a challenge to optimize cooking the eggs.” 

“I think Dietrich was making those for the party.” Obi-Wan peered through the oven window, then began pulling out bowls to measure ingredients for the bars. Jitters watched with interest as Obi-Wan measured out the flour, creamed butter, cracked eggs, and stirred in chopped chocolate, candy and dried fruit. He poured the batters into prepared pans just as the timer rang for the casseroles, and he switched out the pans and reset the alarm. The casseroles smelled hearty and tempting. 

Jitters was just starting to sense someone at the door when Obi-Wan gestured to open it without leaving the kitchen. Kani peered in cautiously as Obi-Wan washed his hands.

“We’re in the kitchen, Kani!”

The Togruta soon appeared in the door. “Smells good in here.”

“Thanks.” Obi-Wan nodded at the casseroles cooling on the counter. “The casseroles are done, the bar cookies are baking, the cider is just about done, and Jitters is kindly cutting up the vegetables for crudites.” 

“And the meatballs need another hour,” Jitters added.

“Wow. That’s terrific,” Kani nodded. “Quin is almost done prepping something manly and covered in melted cheese, and the punch is ready to go. He doesn’t want to mix it up until right before the party. He’s also got the food tables all set up, he and Dietrich put up the lights, Kressa made some chili, Gwen and Illos put out cold cuts, cheese and rolls, and Marni put together a playlist, but she was looking for Jitters because she was having trouble syncing the speakers.”

“I’m almost done with the veggies. Are you good, Obi-Wan?”

“I’m fine here and can finish them up. Did you need anything Kani?” 

“Oh yes! I came to see if you had any powdered sugar. We are having a major icing shortage at Kressa’s.” 

Obi-Wan laughed. “I told you that was too many cookies!” He pulled a canister out of his cabinet, scooped a small amount into a clean bowl, then put the lid back on and handed the whole thing over. “I need a little to glaze some of the bars, but you are welcome to the rest.”

“Thanks.” She looked at Jitters who was washing up before he left to help Marni. “Want to help ice some cookies?” 

“Um, I’m not very good at artsy stuff,” Jitters insisted.

“We’re just slapping on icing and throwing the sprinkles on. We made _way_ too many cookies and we just need extra hands. I’ll even make the icing. See if Marni wants to help too.” 

“Um, okay. I’ll ask.” Jitters hurried out to go see to the electronics. 

“Are you setting up Jitters with Marni?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“No,” Kani scoffed. “I’m recruiting cookie decorators. We really did make too many. _Kressa_ is trying to set Jitters up with Marni.” She looked him over suspiciously. “I wasn’t interrupting a romantic interlude, was I?”

“No,” Obi-Wan laughed. “It was entirely platonic. Besides, I don’t think I’m Jitter’s type.” 

Kani gave him a look of frank disbelief. “He was going on all morning about your stone-reading abilities and how you showed up all the engineers trying to fix an old Kanu blade.” 

Obi-Wan shook his head but didn’t deny it. “I read stones from an old, broken Kanu saber, polished a chip out of one of them so they could harmonize again, and showed them how they could fit together. They weren’t listening to the stones. But I’m pretty sure it’s still platonic. Apparently this old Kanu saber is a really big deal to the engineers.” 

Kani shrugged. “Oh well. Maybe he and Marni will spark then.” 

“That would be good for him,” Obi-Wan agreed. “But we shouldn’t pressure him.” 

“We won’t. Kressa is pretty gentle about that sort of thing. She just likes to create opportunities.” She gave him a warning look. “You might be next.” 

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “I’m not looking for a relationship.”

The Togruta nodded. “Noted. I’ll let Kressa know you’re still heartbroken that you failed to seduce Jitters with your superior stone reading.” Kani didn’t quite manage to keep a straight face and they both ended up laughing. 

“Should I come help with the icing when my bars are done?” Obi-Wan asked as she walked out with the sugar. 

“Yes!” Kani called back. “ _Way_ too many cookies.”

* * *

“Okay, I think we’re good,” Brother Ospen looked over at the motley crew of clergy and retired Jedi and tried not to feel underprepared. 

“I think we kept it simple, so if everyone remembers their cues, we’ll be okay,” Simet shrugged. It was a puppet show, not a duel to the death. “And if they start to look bored, just jump ahead in the story and we’ll serve the cookies.” 

Vella giggled silently. 

“Here’s hoping we’re at least somewhat entertaining.”

“Sometimes messing up is more entertaining than everything being perfect, and it’s a puppet show that we rehearsed twice. If anyone makes a mistake, it’s _okay_ ,” Simet looked over everyone. “It’s supposed to be a little silly anyway.” 

“Right,” Bes nodded. They all looked at the door with a little trepidation as the initiates and creche children trooped past on their way to the Terrace Garden. 

“That’s a lot of kids,” Denna sounded worried. 

“We have plenty of cookies,” Ospen tried to sound confident. 

“How did you get me to agree to this again?” Monti asked.

“We picked a slightly historical story,” Sister Drish explained. 

“Just think, they could be your future students,” Bes grinned as the noise grew progressively louder as more children packed into the hall. 

“Maybe I really _should_ retire,” Monti winced. 

“Help! Stuck the zipper is!”

Everyone turned to see the tiny grandmaster stuck halfway into a brightly knit sweater, his ears bound against his head, his face completely covered. Simet looked at his shaking hands helplessly. Sister Drish shook her head as she helped Yoda get all sorted out, biting her lip when he finally got his face free and could begin working on the sleeves. 

“Better?” Drish asked as she straightened his seams before zipping it close against his neck. 

“Better. Thank you I do.” He looked down at the flamboyant costume. “In forty years, changed my weight has.”

“We’ll fix the zipper for next time,” Vella assured him. 

Simet gave her a sharp look. “What do you mean, _next time_?” 

* * *

Anakin gave his tambourine one more cheerful shake before he put it in the box of instruments and joined his classmates on the grass. The choir had performed for the really old Jedi and it had actually been kind of fun. 

When he had lived on Tatooine, he hadn’t really gone to school when Gardulla the Hutt owned them, but Watto had let him take classes a few hours a week when work was slow, so long as his mother paid for it, because knowing letters and numbers and reading and basic math was useful when working for a small business. Not that Ani was supposed to let the marks _know_ he could read at all, and some of the slave owners thought it was dangerous. But the classes hadn’t covered fine arts. 

Choir was actually a fun class, though he had had his doubts at first, much like his dance class. He _could_ sing, his mother seemed to like the songs he sang, but the choir sang _all fancy_ , and he had never learned how to do that. The choir master had met with him, talked about his experiences, then let him play around with some simple instruments before leading him through some exercises. He was able to determine that Ani had better rhythm than pitch (which was understandable given that traditional Huttese music was more rhythmic and percussive than harmonic). He had then assigned Ani to the percussion section of the Initiates Choir (which was much cooler than singing in Anakin’s opinion), but also enrolled him in a music appreciation class which actually wasn’t as boring as he had expected. Some of it was music theory (and he had been stunned to learn how much of music was just math), some of it was cultural (wherein they got to listen to music from many different worlds across the galaxy), and some of it was technical, to teach him how to listen to different kinds of sounds so he could recognize them and describe them to others. He had asked his instructor why it was important to know the difference between major and minor keys, harmony and disharmony, syncopated and non-syncopated music, different degrees of loudness, speed and all the other fancy terms they had to learn. The instructor explained that understanding the language of music theory allowed them to not only discuss it (some cultures expected one of be conversant in such things), but also allowed one to hear subtleties which can have meaning in different circumstances. 

Some cultures communicated with music. Some war tribes would switch to syncopated rhythms when they were preparing to attack. Some choirs switched from monophonic to polyphonic or homophonic music when the monarch entered the room. Some people sent messages using drums or electric signals that could be written down like music to be translated. 

Even Anakin had to admit that some of these were useful and it would be important to be able to communicate _about_ music. Then the instructor told him these were very important skills he would need when it was time to select stones for saber-building, particularly when picking multiple stones and the Anakin was all ears. Stone-picking was really, _really_ useful. And cool. 

He still thought it was silly that they were trying to teach him to sing _fancy_ , but at least they didn’t make him do it in choir.

Debap smiled at him when he sat down, eager to watch the small show the clergy and the retired Jedi had prepared. A short, thin nun played some sort of electric keyboard which sounded a bit tinny, but it was nice. The children kept quiet during the song and clapped, politely when it was over. An old, pale Quarren of indeterminate gender (at least to Anakin) came next and told some jokes that the children loved, and the grownups seemed mildly amused by. 

After the comedian (who was apparently male since the audience was prompted to applaud to thank _him_ ), two of the brothers silently carried a plain table onto the staging area, then draped it in a thick tablecloth with a slit in the middle. They then carried out some folding chairs, which one monk set up to one side of the table, expect for the last one which he put on the other side, while the second monk set carried in a few boxes. He was followed by Master Silvanus, who crouched down behind the table to arrange things before handing the boxes back. Both the monk and the retired master cleared the area before the nun acting as the master of ceremonies came back. 

“Children, I’m afraid there is good news and bad news. The bad news is Master Ulli caught a cold, so he can’t perform his usual holiday puppet show for you.”

As a group, the children seemed surprised but not terribly disappointed. Even the creche children had seen his puppet show enough times that it was no longer exciting. 

“The good news is several of the clergy and residents were able to put together a small production with traditional Jedi puppets for you. We hope you enjoy it, so please let’s welcome _Brother Ospen and the Really Old Players_!” She clapped to cue the children as several retired Jedi and less old clergy took their seats off to the side and one monk sat on the grass behind the table. Brother Ospen took the lone chair on the other side, putting on his glasses and opening a storybook while the monk behind the table and the crew members signaled back and forth. 

“How are they going to use puppets if they are sitting over there?” Debap wondered aloud, though quietly. “Are they taking turns?” 

“I don’t know. I once saw a Besalisk give a puppet show on Tatooine. He had enough arms to do four puppets at once.” 

Debap giggled. “Was he Mr. Jettster?” she asked, remembering his tales of food _outside_ the Temple. 

“No. He was just stopping to refuel. He traded water for fuel, but needed a few local coins to pay for food, so he put on a show for the kids.” 

Brother Ospen looked at the audience, smiling faintly. 

“He’s the Boss Monk,” Ani reported. “He’s not the Abbot, but he’s in charge of the people here and the retired Jedi.” 

“He feels warm in the Force,” Debap replied. 

Ani shrugged. That didn’t mean he was actually nice, and he hadn’t been able to tell the last time he had visited. 

“Do you know any of the others?” Debap asked. 

Anakin frowned at the group, looking for familiar faces he had met when Master Qui-Gon had taken him to the South Terrace. “I only met the Boss Monk, not the other monks. I don’t know the Twilek lady, but the guy with metal legs is Master Bes, and he showed me some Breggle, and so did the tall guy, that’s Master Silvanus. I don’t know the other guy. Master Jinn said Master Silvanus is really good at Breggle, but that he can be grouchy.” 

Debap frowned. “Isn’t he the one who was the Battlemaster?” 

Ani giggled quietly. “Yes. He asked Master Jinn if he still drops his guard. I think that’s what Master Jinn meant by grouchy, because he wasn’t mean, but he wasn’t as friendly as Master Bes.”

“Is the one who yelled here?” Debap asked.

“No,” Ani said, sounding relieved. 

“Good morning, Children,” Brother Ospen looked over the crowd. “Today we are pleased to present to you the story of _Knight Grell and the Flying Nerfs_.”

The children applauded politely as something was placed on the table and the nun who had been playing the keyboard provided introductory music. 

Brother Ospen cleared his throat. “A long time ago, on a far away planet, there once lived a happy and prosperous people.” 

Ani rolled his eyes. The item on the table proved to be a small pile of fuzzy balls that spread apart, large lumps with smaller lumps that bobbed up and down next to them. 

“And on this world, there was a farming village that raised nerfs.” 

The crowd of children made an understanding sound as they realized the fuzzy lumps were supposed to be grazing nerfs. The lumps began to ‘wander’ around the table, the ‘heads’ still bobbing as they ‘ate.’ 

“The prosperous people took good care of their nerf herds, and it was said their fleece was the finest in the sector.” 

A small figure began to rise up behind the table, slowly, as if coming up a hill and it was soon revealed to be a puppet, but one without strings or a hand inside controlling it. It was a gangly thing, it’s movement just slightly unnatural, but Ani and many of the other children could sense that someone was using the Force to manipulate it. The puppet was dressed in green and blue and walked among the nerfs, sitting and tending to them. 

“The nerfs and the people all lived happily together, and both were happy for many years.” 

The human puppet walked off to one side, turning it’s back to the ones on the other side of the table. 

“But one day,” Brother Ospen paused dramatically and a dark hand with long claws reached up from behind the table and snatched one of the nerfs away. The human puppet stood up abruptly, as if it had heard an odd noise, then shook its head dismissively and went back to petting the nerf. After a moment it turned back around and started in surprise, then moved its hands, scratching its chin, then pointing at the nerfs, counting them. While its back was turned, another dark hand reached up and snatched a nerf off the other side of the table. “The nerfs began to _disappear_ . . .”

The puppet did a double take that made Monti snort and then began counting again while the keyboardist started playing ominous music. 

“The people began to grow concerned, then frightened as more and more of their beloved nerfs disappeared.” 

The puppet dashed back and forth, trying to check all the nerfs, while the hands snatched them away, one by one, always out of sight. The human puppet grew increasingly frantic, until only one nerf remained. It followed the one nerf obsessively, never letting it out of its sight, before kneeling, then laying down next to it. 

“The nerfs grew fewer and fewer, and though the people searched diligently, they could not find their fleecy friends. Eventually, when there were only a precious few left, the nerfherders stayed by their friends in the field all night long, desperate to keep them safe, but they could never discover where the missing nerfs had gone.”

The puppet wiped its eye sadly, then hugged the last remaining nerf (still eating) and rested its head against it. After a moment, the puppet ‘yawned,’ then seemed to fall asleep. Once it was still, the dark hand came and snatched the last nerf away. Monti made a startled nerf sound and the puppet ‘fell’ to the ground and ‘woke’ abruptly, looking around for the missing nerf in vain. After turning to and fro, searching all over the table, the puppet collapsed in a heap, covering its face and moving as if it were crying in despair. The music became very sad. 

“With most of the nerfs gone, the people did not know how they would make money without fleece to sell, nor milk to make into cheese or nerflings to sell at the fair, and without money they didn’t know how they would feed their families or pay their taxes. The people were very frightened and very worried and contacted their governor, who called upon the Jedi for help.” 

The music shifted from despairing to hopeful as another figure came slowly up from below the table, this one obviously dressed as a Jedi knight, a tiny lightsaber hilt on his belt. The knight walked around the table, looking around, nodding at things before he noticed the sad puppet and then he walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. 

“The Council had sent Knight Grell to help the people and he was determined to find out what was going on.” 

The knight and the nerfherder gestured back and forth to each other. The nerfherder seemed grateful, but still sad, occasionally wiping away tears. The knight made reassuring gestures. 

“The people explained that all the nerfs had disappeared, no one knew where they had gone or had seen them go, and none had ever returned. The community had taken the few remaining nerfs from the fields and brought them to a barn in the village and kept them together, and none had vanished from the barn, but they couldn’t stay there forever, they needed fresh grass and warm sun so they could grow enough fleece to survive the winter.” 

The knight nodded along to whatever the nerfherder told him. 

“After listening, Knight Grell spoke.” 

The knight puppet crossed its arms and stood tall. The children giggled, having seen grownup Jedi make that pose many times in their young lives. 

“Please, take me to your remaining nerfs,” Bes said in a slightly deeper voice, trying to sound official. Monti stifled a snort.

The nerfherder nodded, stood up and led the knight back behind the table. 

After a moment, a puppet of a small girl, and a few small nerfs came up onto the table. The girl pet the nerfs and looked around fearfully before Knight Grell entered the scene. 

“Knight Grell came to the barn to see if the nerfs could tell him anything.” 

“Hello, young lady.” Bes spoke for the knight puppet, which nodded to the girl. “I have come to speak to your nerfs, and to try to find their missing companions.” 

The girl looked up at him, shocked. 

“But nerfs don’t talk!” Sister Drish insisted in a little girl voice. The children giggled. 

“I will commune with them in the Force,” Bes explained. 

The knight knelt down and the remaining nerfs crowded around him. Drish and Monti made happy nerf noises. The children laughed again as Knight Grell bowed his head and the nerfs nuzzled him. After a moment, the knight raised his head and the nerfs wandered off. The knight turned back to the girl. 

“They said the other nerfs flew away.” 

The little girl had a dubious posture. 

“But nerfs can’t fly!” Sister Drish protested. The children laughed. 

“I didn’t think they did,” Bes replied. “I suppose all things are possible with the Force?” 

“Flying _nerfs_?” Sister Drish asked. 

The children laughed harder. 

“I’ll have to find other witnesses,” Bes declared, as the puppet struck a heroic pose, hands on his hips, and Monti stifled a full-on laugh. Knight Grell marched off behind the table, followed by the girl and the nerfs. 

“Knight Grell left the town and walked through the woods on his way to the fields, trying to find a good witness.” 

The knight walked back and forth along the table. 

“As he walked, he could hear birdsong.” 

Sister Drish began playing a small flute, and then Denna levitated a small bird puppet from her hand which ‘flew’ around the knight’s head, swooping along with the music. The knight puppet responded by ‘looking’ at the bird, seeming to follow it with his gaze.

“Blue Bird, Blue Bird, have you seen the lost nerfs?” Bes asked. 

The bird kept swooping while Drish continued to play. 

“You haven’t seen them fly?” Bes asked. “The nerfs said they flew away.”

The flying and twittering continued and the knight puppet kept turning to follow the bird.

“I know nerfs don’t usually fly. Did you see anything strange?” 

The song sounded as if the bird was thinking it over, then answered back. 

“There’s been puffs of fleece in the clouds?” Bes asked.

The flute made an affirmative sound then trilled. 

“And you saw manure _where_?” Bes sounded shocked, and the children laughed. 

The flute repeated the trilling phrase. 

“It fell _from the sky_?” Bes asked, incredulous, and the knight puppet reflected this. “Are you sure it wasn’t . . . _bird manure_?”

The children laughed harder as the flute twittered angrily, offended and the knight puppet drew back. 

“Well, yes,” Bes said. “I guess you’d know what bird manure looks like.”

The music became calm and friendly again.

“But how did the nerfs fly? They can’t grow wings,” Bes explained. “They can’t build flying machines.”

The flute somehow sounded smug and the puppet gave it a sharp glance. 

“No, I _don’t_ think they could have used the Force,” Bes scolded. 

The children laughed uproariously, and Monti shook his head, amused at his old friends. 

The knight puppet rubbed its chin, thinking. 

“You said you saw the manure fall,” Bes sounded thoughtful. “Where did it fall from?” 

The flute sang a single note. 

“The sky?” Bes asked. “Did it come from space?” 

The children laughed again. 

The flute warbled. 

“It wasn’t on fire, it was just manure, so it wasn’t from space.” 

The puppet nodded, stroking its chin as the children continued to chuckle. 

“You didn’t see where it fell from?” Bes finally asked. 

The flute played for several moments. 

“It came from higher than you can fly?”

The puppet pointed up.

The flute played a single, affirmative note.

“What can fly higher than you?” Bes asked.

The flute sounded two notes. 

“Well, yes, humans can, with help. Were they nerf thieves?” 

The flute sounded uncertain. 

“Is there anyone else?”

The flute trilled this time. 

“The cave dragon?” Bes asked. “The people didn’t mention a cave dragon.” 

Drish played a few notes, more confident sounding. 

“Yes, I _know_ people don’t know everything.” 

The children giggled.

“Where does the cave dragon live?” 

The flute played three notes.

“Well, yes,” Bes sighed. “In a cave, that makes sense.” The puppet’s movements looked exasperated before it crossed its arms, standing tall. “Where is the cave where it lives?” 

The flute twittered and the bird puppet began to fly more excitedly. 

“Yes, thank you, let’s go.” 

The bird and the knight slowly lowered behind the table. 

Brother Ospen cleared his throat. “Knight Grell followed the Blue Bird through the forest.” 

The bird appeared at one side of the table followed by the knight and they walked across the table and disappeared on the other side. 

“And then they walked through the nerf fields.” 

Both puppets reappeared, walked halfway across the table and the knight stopped short, looking at the ground, and the bird looped around him, the flute twittering. 

“Why yes, nerf manure is very different from bird manure!” Bes exclaimed. 

The children roared with laughter. 

The knight and the bird continued across the table. 

“And eventually they walked until they reached some stone cliffs at the edge of the ocean,” Ospen continued. The puppets reappeared to continue their march across the table, but this time they stopped halfway across and the knight came to the edge of the table and looked down at the grass. 

“That’s a long way down,” Bes said. 

The flute twittered. 

“Yes, I know that there’s a fast way down, but I’m not a bird. How do the other animals get down there?” Bes asked. 

The flute sang again.

“There’s a nerf path?” 

The flute piped up again. 

“Yes,thank you, let’s go,” Bes agreed and both puppets disappeared behind the table again. 

One of the monks held up a strange instrument that made a dull roar. Ani stared at it in confusion as the monk kept turning it over every time the sound stopped so it would repeat, rhythmically. 

“Knight Grell followed the Blue Bird to a path that led down the cliffs to the beach and the mouth of a cave.” 

“What is that sound?” Ani whispered to Debap. 

Ocean waves,” she told him. “The water sounds like that when it reaches the shore.” 

"Oh.” He wondered when his classmates would have heard a real ocean, and how big waves really were. He had only seen pictures in storybooks. 

This time the knight puppet walked in front of the table, through the short grass of the Terrace lawn. The monk behind the table made a sound like sea birds and the puppet walked oddly, as if walking on sand instead of solid ground. Ani was impressed by the detail. 

“So, this is the dragon’s cave?” Bes asked as the knight puppet stopped near the slit in the tablecloth and looked up one hand shielding its eyes, as if the cave entrance was very tall.

The flute trilled and warbled. 

“How big is this Cave Dragon?” Bes asked, sounding apprehensive. 

The flute sounded uncertain. 

“Bigger than you?” Bes asked testily as the puppet gestured at the imaginary cave entrance. 

The flute sounded equally annoyed.

“Oh. I thought you two had met.” 

The flute played more irritated trills.

“You only know him by reputation?” 

Drish played more affirmative twitters. 

The knight puppet started. “What does it _eat_?” Bes asked. 

Drish played a single note. 

“ _Birds_?” Bes sounded horrified. 

Another note. 

“ _Nerfs_?” 

A third note. 

“ _Humans_?” Bes sounded terrified. 

The children roared in laughter. 

The flute piped uncertainly. 

“You don’t know?” 

A few more notes. 

“Well, no. I didn’t think you were a dragon expert.” 

The puppet looked back at where the cave entrance was supposed to be and moved to sigh while Bes made the appropriate sound effects. 

The knight turned back toward the bird. “Well, thank you for your help.” 

The flute sang back a short phrase. 

“Yes, I _will_ do my best not to be eaten. You take care.” 

The flute trilled again as the bird circled the knight puppet three times before returning to Denna’s hand. 

The knight puppet stared up at the slit in the cloth and nodded. 

“Time to go in, I guess,” Bes tried to sound brave. “I hope it doesn’t like to eat Jedi.” 

The children giggled though the smallest ones looked scared as the puppet slipped into the slit and went under the table. 

Brother Ospen turned the page of his book and adjusted his glasses while the monk behind the table moved some things and the nun playing the keyboard played some cheery music that gradually became ominous as the knight puppet appeared at one end of the tabletop, walking and holding a tiny lantern. The puppet walked as if the ground was uneven, weaving around unseen obstacles. The puppet paused and Bes inhaled noisily. 

“I don’t smell any nerfs.” 

The puppet kept walking around the table, then knelt down, seeming to pick something up and examining it. 

“This _is_ nerf fleece,” Bes paused as the puppet looked around. “But only a little bit. Suppose the dragon ate the poor things whole?” 

Several initiates made disgusted sounds. 

The puppet shuddered but soldiered on. 

“I don’t see any bones or more fleece . . . or dragon manure.” The puppet paused while the children giggled. “I don’t see any sign of a dragon at all.” The puppet put its hands on its hips and scoffed. “I don’t think there’s a dragon at _all_!” Bes declared. “I think the bird was fibbing!”

The puppet put its hands up to its face as if to amplify its voice and Bes did the same. 

“Halloo! Is anyone there?” Bes imitated an echo to simulate calling out in a rocky cave. 

Everything was silent for a moment before a very loud roar came from beneath the table, followed by ominous chords on the keyboard. 

“Oh, my,” Bes whimpered as the puppet cringed in dismay, and the monk behind the table pounded on a drum to simulate heavy footsteps, then another roar. 

The puppet backed up, stumbling. 

“Um, sorry to bother you.” Bes was using a soothing tone. “I’ll just see myself out!”

The puppet scrambled to escape, running and dodging, weaving around obstacles and off the back of the table as the drumbeats got faster and louder. 

After a moment the puppet came running out of the slit in the tablecloth and into the grass. It stopped at the end of the table and leaned over as if breathing hard. Bes provided sound, yelping as the roar came again. 

The puppet looked toward the mouth of the cave, then turned to face the danger, standing tall and drawing its small lightsaber. 

There was an even louder roar and suddenly Master Yoda burst through the slit in the tablecloth, dressed in a very colorful sweater and pants with wings attached to the arms. He flapped them, then growled at the children menacingly. Despite him being _the monster_ of the story, the children cheered. 

Ani stared at Yoda in shock. He could easily sense the monk behind the table (who wasn’t exactly shielding, but wasn’t making his presence known), but he had not sensed Yoda at all. (Apparently all of the children had been surprised, based on the cheering). Ani puzzled over the spectacle, feeling it out with the Force as his instructors told him to do during saber matches and other demonstrations. 

It wasn’t difficult to see which puppeteer was handling what. The old Twilek lady had been manipulating the bird. The old man Anakin didn’t know was handling the nerfs and Master Bes wasn’t handling any of the puppets just making dialogue. Master Silvanus seemed to be the one controlling the more complicated puppets, sometimes two at a time. Ani was starting to understand why Master Jinn had asked Master Silvanus to show them some Breggle, even if he didn’t like him very much. 

But he had missed Yoda entirely!

Had he been under the table before they arrived? Had the monk brought him in? Had he snuck in through the grass when they had been watching the puppets? 

He looked over at Debap, who looked delighted as Master Yoda roared at the audience, then turned and roared at the knight puppet, playing his character to the hilt. 

The puppet’s clothes and hair blew back as if the wings on Yoda’s sleeves had created a mighty wind but the knight held his ground. 

The knight lit his tiny saber (which was a small, bright colored plastic blade that slid out of the hilt). The master Ani didn’t know made the snap-hiss noise, surprisingly well-timed when he wasn’t the one making the blade move, and Ani realized the old Jedi must be subtly communicating somehow to coordinate their actions. 

The dreaded beast looked pointedly at the lit saber and roared again, then got down on all fours and began swinging the costume tail, and the children laughed uproariously at Master Yoda wiggling his butt to do so.

When he had built up some momentum, the tiny master swept the tail toward the puppet, which jumped in response, swinging its saber toward the reptile’s attack. Both costumed master and puppet battled back and forth in the grass, jumping, rolling, dodging, attacking and defending. The children clapped and cheered for both combatants while Master Bes tried to keep up with the voice, Master Silvanus made a variety of faces as he manipulated the puppet and the man Ani didn’t know desperately tried not to laugh, as did the nun trying to accompany them on the keyboard. Brother Ospen looked astonished; Master Si and Master Yoda had not shown this level of skill nor enthusiasm during rehearsals. 

Eventually, the puppet managed to hit the dreaded dragon with his tiny lightsaber. 

“OW!” Yoda yelled. “Hurt me that did!” 

The knight puppet backed up, saber at the ready, seemingly astonished. 

“You can talk?” Bes yelped.

“Yes,” Yoda confirmed. “Cave Dragons can speak.” He glowered down at the puppet. “Why come into my home you did?”

“I was looking for the missing nerfs,” Bes explained. “The villagers’ nerfs have been disappearing and the birds think the nerfs were flying at the height cave dragons fly.”

Yoda gave the puppet a skeptical look. “Understand you do, fly nerfs cannot, yes?” 

“I know nerfs can’t fly. Normally,” Bes explained. “But the birds said nerf manure was falling from the sky at a height you can fly, so the birds thought you might have seen something.” 

“And question me you would how if talk I could not?” Yoda asked. 

“Um, I was more investigating then expecting to question you,” Bes admitted. 

“Hmm, think you did that find nerfs in my home you would?”

“Um, I thought I’d find, the, um, leftovers?”

“Leftovers?” Yoda huffed. “A pescatarian I am.” 

The adults snorted. 

“Oh.”

The knight puppet nodded. 

“Well, if you didn’t eat the nerfs, do you know what happened to them, or how they got up so high in the air?”

“Yes,” Yoda nodded. 

The knight puppet slumped a little in exasperation. 

“Can you tell me what happened to them, please?” Bes asked.

“Yes,” Yoda nodded again. “More polite you are now.” 

The children giggled. 

“Well, etiquette is important in diplomacy,” Bes ad-libbed and both Yoda and Monti snorted, and many of the adults in the audience laughed. 

“The nerfs on the hills are, across the far valley.” 

“Why?” Bes asked, and puppet looked excited. 

“So, eat grass they can,” Yoda explained. 

The puppet put a hand under his chin. 

“But they can eat grass here.” 

“Hmm,” Yoda nodded. “Also so die they do not.” 

“Die?” Bes asked, shocked and the puppet started in alarm. 

“Yes. If stay in the fields here, die they will.” 

“Why?” Bes asked. The puppet seemed to glance at Yoda suspiciously. “Because they are _tasty_?” 

Yoda glared back. “As tasty as Jedi I think not.”

The puppet twitched as Bes gasped in shock. 

“Joking I was. Too stringy to eat you are.” Yoda looked the puppet over. “Not much bigger than a nerf you are. Take you to the nerfs I could. Show you why die here they would I could. But trust you I cannot.” He held out his finger. “Injure me you did!”

“I’m sorry,” Bes sounded genuinely contrite. “Maybe I could help? That probably hurts.” 

“It does!” Yoda insisted. He gave the puppet a suspicious look before kneeling down and presenting his finger. 

The puppet placed its hands on either side of the ‘wound’ and peered at it. 

“Yes,” Bes’s tone was serious. “The power was not on high, but that still must have burned. You have a blister.”

“Yes,” Yoda agreed. 

“I didn’t want to cut off your finger,” Bes told him. 

“Good.” Yoda held his three-fingered hand up to the audience. “Have fingers to spare I do not.” 

The children cracked up. Monti and Denna chuckled as Bes pressed his lips together a moment to keep from laughing. 

“I can use the Force to help it heal and make it hurt less,” Bes told him as the puppet seemed to examine the wound. 

“Yes, please,” Yoda nodded. 

The puppet bowed its head like Ani had seen the healers do when they treated his minor wounds. Then the master he didn’t know gestured toward the stage and there was suddenly a bright glow in the Force between the puppet and the wound that grew to envelop the both of them. It sparkled as if there were little, tiny fireworks inside the glow, and it felt warm and joyful in the Force. 

The children exclaimed quietly in surprise, as did their caregivers. Bes gave Monti a very stunned look, as did Drish, Vella, and the monk under the table. Simet, Yoda and Denna didn’t bat an eye. Brother Ospen kept a straight face but had not been expecting special effects to that extent based on discussion during rehearsals. Ani stared at the Force manifestation, slack jawed. Debap was less shocked, more delighted. She had been raised in the Temple and had seen this sort of thing a few times before, but certainly not during a puppet show for the children, at least not when Master Ulli was doing it. 

Anakin had never seen anything like it. It was beautiful to see, not just visually, but in the Force, a manifestation of Light that even the small children had seen in their lives in the Temple, but Ani had not growing up not only among the Force blind, but non-users. 

It reminded him of his mother expressing her love for him, when she hugged him after he gave her a scare or when she dressed a small cut or scrape. He wondered if the older Jedi loved the children the way his mom loved him, not as intensely of course, but like family. 

Master Yoda did not react to the minute shift in the Unifying Force beyond sharing a brief glance with Simet before he lapsed back into character to stare at his finger, grinning. The Light dissipated.

“Does that feel better?” Bes asked after a slight nudge from Monti to refocus him. 

“Yes, thank you. Hurts less now it does.” 

“You must be careful with it until it heals.” Bes told him as the puppet seemed to remove an adhesive ribbon from its coat and ‘wrapped it’ around Yoda’s finger. In truth, Simet passed it in the Force to Yoda like a Breggle stone so he could wrap his own finger without it being too loose or too tight.

“I used the Force to dull the pain, but it will hurt if you bump it, so don’t forget.” 

“Yes,” Yoda nodded. “Careful I will be.” Still kneeling, he held out his arm to the puppet, as his friends often did for him when they offered to carry him on their shoulders. “Take you up into the sky to show you the dangers here, I can.” Yoda told the knight. 

The puppet nodded and began climbing up his arm to settle on his shoulders. 

“Thank you.” 

“Hold tight you must,” Yoda warned before raising his arms to flap his costume wings. 

“I will,” Bes assured him, and the children laughed to see Yoda run back and forth in front of the table a few times, flapping his arms. 

“Whoa!” Bes cried out, but the little puppet held on. Yoda ran behind the table. 

“The Cave Dragon flew high up into the air, past the trees, then the birds, and into the clouds,” Brother Ospen said. 

The monk behind the table let Yoda climb up on his shoulders and held him steady, then slowly sat up so Yoda and the puppet appeared to be flying behind the table. 

“We’re so high up!” Bes exclaimed.

Yoda was no longer flapping but was using the Force to hold up the knit wings, as if they were gliding through the air. The puppet’s robe also appeared to be blowing back in the wind. 

“Yes. Fly this high cave dragons do.” After ‘flying’ for a bit, Yoda pointed down with the ‘uninjured’ finger. “See the nerfs you do?”

The monk behind the table put two nerf puppets on top of it and Monti used the Force to bob their heads to eat and wander over the table. 

“Yes!” Bes cried out as if to be heard over the wind. “They’re alive!”

“Yes!” Yoda agreed. “Eating the grass they are.”

“But why are they over here?” Bes asked. “The villagers couldn’t find them and were very worried.” 

“Bigger things to worry about there are.”

The monk under the table turned Yoda slightly to indicate they were changing direction while the nerfs slowly slipped back under the table. Yoda flapped the wings. The puppet seemed to cling to the knit triangular spikes going down the hood and back of Yoda’s costume. After a moment, the monk straightened up and Yoda and the puppet faced front once more. 

"See the danger now you do?” Yoda asked as the puppet peered over his shoulder. 

“I see the fields, and the stream, and the mountains,” Bes replied. 

“Hmm, yes.” The monk turned them again. “Go there we should.” Yoda was tilted a bit to make it seem as if they were descending, and the ‘wind’ ruffling the puppet’s hair and robes reflected this. They seemed to glide along for a while, then the monk carefully lifted him over his head, letting him gently alight on the tabletop. 

“A safe place to see from this is,” Yoda told the knight as the puppet climbed down to stand next to him. “See the land you can. See the water you can.” 

“Yes,” Bes sounded uncertain as the puppet strode to the edge of the table and looked over the edge. “I see the valley, I see the stream, I see the dam.” 

The puppet rubbed its chin. 

“Is the dam supposed to have that crack there?” 

“An engineer I am not, a dragon I am, but hmm, leaking like that is should be not.” 

The puppet put a hand up to shield its eyes from the sun, looking intently. 

“I agree, it should not.”

“Break soon the dam will,” Yoda sighed. “Flood the valley will. Drown the nerfs will if crossing the stream they are. Cut off from the village and the barns they would be if in the fields they were. Get back home they could not. No safe shelter there would be in bad storms. Die they would, by drowning or in storms. Take them to the far valley I did where safe they would be. A warm, dry cave there is, sleep there in the winter I do. Willing to share I am until passed the danger has.” 

“That seems much safer,” Bes conceded. “But why didn’t you just tell the people? The people could be in danger too.”

Yoda sighed. “Years ago, tried to talk to the villagers I did. Run away they always did. Got a chance to speak I never did.” He huffed. “Safe the nerfs are and eat them I will not. Tell the villagers you can?”

“Yes,” Bes assured him while the puppet nodded. “I will.” 

“Take you back to the village path I can. Get too close I should not if think I ate the nerfs they do.” 

“Thank you,” Bes said as the puppet climbed back up on Yoda’s shoulders and the tiny master hopped off the back of the table into the monk’s arms and he ‘flew’ off into the distance, the monk slowly lowering him behind the table. 

“And so Knight Grell went back to the villagers and told them about the Cave Dragon taking the nerfs to the far fields where they would be safe from the water if the dam broke,” Brother Ospen continued the story. 

The knight puppet and the nerfherder seemed to converse in pantomime while the single remaining nerf bobbed its head and wandered around the tabletop. 

“The villagers then sent workers to inspect the dam upstream and then sent the nerfherders to reunite with and care for the nerfs.” 

The monk behind the table added more nerf puppets to the display, and the knight and the nerfherder puppet walked among them, patting them and checking them over. 

“The villagers were able to repair the dam and the nerfs were able to return to their fields, and the villagers were able to make friends with the Cave Dragon.”

Yoda popped his head over the back edge of the table, smiling and the nerfherder cautiously approached and patted his arm. 

“The villagers began to raise fish in the lake behind the dam to help feed the Cave Dragon and the Cave Dragon continued to help guard his little fleecy friends.”

Yoda pet one of the nerfs and Monti bleated happily. Bes and Denna stifled giggles at the sound. 

“And the Cave Dragon, the nerfs and the villagers were all at peace and the Force was with them. _The End._ ”

The children and the adults in the audience gave them enthusiastic applause, the former mostly for the story and lizard guest star, the latter for the high telekinetic skills and music in the performance. 

Brother Ospen had the cast and crew stand up and he introduced each of them. Ani made note of Master Monti’s name so he could ask Master Qui-Gon about him later. He felt odd in the Force, not in a Dark or bad way, but different, kind of how Master Silvanus felt different, but not quite the same. 

After the players and crew took a bow, and each were applauded, cookies and punch were served and everyone was able to get up and walk around the garden. 

“That was really neat,” Debap grinned as she and Anakin joined the line for refreshments. 

“That was much cooler than Master Ulli’s usual puppet show,” Gobi agreed. 

Ani also thought this but had been waiting for someone else to say so, not sure what initiates raised in the Temple would think of it. “I’ve never seen puppets like that before.”

"Me neither,” Gobi replied, absently trying to get a better look at the food. 

“I’ve only read about it and seen it in recordings,” Debap reported. “It’s an older tradition of the Jedi. I had to do a report on it.” 

“Why don’t they do it anymore?” Ani asked. “It was really neat to see them use puppets without touching them and they moved in really neat ways.” 

“I asked my teacher, because it was really fun to watch even without being able to sense the Force, and she said sometimes the Jedi would do bigger shows with lots of different puppets years and years ago, but not anymore. It was because the Jedi didn’t really play Grownup Breggle anymore, and you have to be really good at Breggle to move the puppets right. She also said Master Ulli used to use the old puppets like those, but it’s hard to do a show like that all by yourself, so he only uses the regular puppets now.”

Ani looked back at the old masters and clergy, glancing at shaky Master Silvanus. All the old Jedi said he was really, _really_ good at Breggle, so it made sense he had moved the humanoid puppets. 

“Are you still learning Grownup Breggle, Ani?” Debap asked. 

“Yes,” Ani nodded. “It’s harder than I thought it would be, but I’m learning games where you don’t have to hold all the stones all the time right now.” His current instructor was teaching him strategy games that could certainly be played with hands instead of telekinesis, but the two-pronged challenge of the skill and the game itself put him on more even footing with his agemates, so he had peers he could play with without leaving them in the dust. Which was actually more fun than having only teachers to play with. 

“It looks like fun, but also really hard,” Debap mused. 

“It was at first, every new game is at first, but Master Silvanus said that there are plenty of games where you only move three stones at a time or less and it’s about focus, not being very strong in the Force.” Ani knew Debap worried she wasn’t strong enough in the Force, and that she looked up to Knight Kenobi because he still became a knight, even though he wasn’t really bright in the Force all the time. 

“I can show you the simple stuff if you want,” Ani offered. “Once you get those, it gets easier.”

“Maybe,” Debap sighed again. “I don’t know if the masters would think it was silly,” she said as she picked up her cookies and punch. 

Ani frowned, not sure himself. “I don’t know either. I mean, they tell us to use the Force and all, but they only teach everyone Creche Breggle. I don’t know why they stop.”

“What does Master Jinn think about it?” Debap asked. She had no illusions that she stood a chance of being selected by such a prestigious master as Qui-Gon Jinn, but he was a master Ani was close enough to talk about these things with. 

Ani laughed as they tried to pick out a spot on the grass. “He doesn’t play, but he thinks it’s a really good skill to have. He was really surprised Obi-Wan learned to play and said _his_ master used to play. Master Silvanus said that Breggle _was_ a game, but it taught important skills and was _not_ silly, and Master Bes said it was supposed to be fun, but it was a fun way to learn stuff, not just to have fun.” 

Debap looked over the masters in question, who were speaking to several initiates, crechelings and instructors about the puppet show along with the rest of the cast. That Master Monti was holding one of the nerf puppets as if it was a tooka kitten, while the nun who had played the keyboard was talking to the children in Sign. 

Debap shrugged as they settled on the grass, looking a little glum. “I don’t think I have enough time to learn before I have to leave.” 

Ani gave her a sharp look. “What do you mean?” 

The girl sighed. “I only have a few months until my birthday and none of the masters have been interested in me. Maybe if I had tried to learn when you did, those skills would help, but I didn’t.” She ducked her head. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be sad during a holiday.” 

“You still have a couple of _months_ , Debap,” Ani told her, trying to be reassuring. “That’s plenty of time, and you only need to convince _one_ master.” 

Debap gave him a bleak look. “The masters never notice me, and they don’t talk to me after the practice spars like they do with you and Gobi and Frazzi.” She looked down at her cookies but didn’t really see them. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Well, I know I’m not a top performer in the saber bouts, but my grades are good and I learned an extra language and I tried to do my best when we built sabers and I tried to get back into training this week when I felt better after my cold, but the instructors told me to wait one more week, so I missed _another_ set of matches for the masters.” She nibbled at her cookie, rather than sigh again. “I think they know it won’t matter.” 

“No one’s asked me, or Gobi or Frazzi to be their padawans either,” Ani pointed out. “The masters sometimes talk to us after the matches, but they haven’t asked us.” 

Debap looked skeptical. “They’re _interested_ in you and Gobi and Frazzi. They aren’t interested in _me_. And the masters talk about you with the instructors and the docents and Master Yoda. They may not have asked, but they are thinking about it.” She nibbled her cookie again. “They don’t talk about me.” 

Ani tried to decide if she was jealous or just sad. “Nobody’s asked me either. They may be interested, but no one has decided to ask. Master Qui-Gon is starting to get worried.” 

“Docent Redmond talked to me about the Service Corps and the clergy. Or about going home to my parents.” Debap looked across the garden, wondering how many of her friends would grow up to be knights and how many wouldn’t. 

“Master Qui-Gon says they do that with everybody, because some initiates _want_ to go to the Service Corps, and they need to be told that’s okay.” 

“I know. They told me that when I was made a senior initiate, but when you get down to three months, they talk about it again and try to decide which Corps to send you to if you don’t get a master.” She stroked a hand through the short grass. “Docent Redmond said I might like the Space Corps, because I can pilot well for my age and I follow instructions well. The Agri Corps is also possible, but my mechanical skills were not a good fit for the Engineering Corp, but I am skilled enough to do maintenance in the Space Corps. I probably don’t lean enough to the Living Force for the Health Corps, but I could train as a nurse when I’m a grown up. You can change from one Corps to another when you’re an adult, but you need to take lots of classes.”

That was much more detailed than anything Docent Redmond had ever told Anakin. 

“Did Master K’Trill have any ideas?” Ani asked. If Debap didn’t stand out in the saber dueling, that seemed like something she should work on. 

Debap shrugged. “She says I’m getting better at defending and attacking, but she says that to everyone, and if everyone is getting better, they are still better than me.” She stroked the grass again. “At least they gave me a choice instead of just deciding to send me to the Agri Corps.” 

“They sent Knight Kenobi to the Agri Corps,” Ani reminded her. “And he still became a knight.” 

Debap frowned. “I think that’s just a story the padawans tell the initiates.” 

“No, it’s true,” Ani insisted. “Master Qui-Gon told me. He refused to take Obi-Wan as a padawan, so Master Yoda sent him to the Agri Corps and sent Master Qui-Gon to the same planet. _On purpose_.” 

“They need someone to say no for that to work. I don’t think the teachers even have anyone to ask.” 

Ani really didn’t like to see his friend sad. “Maybe the Force just hasn’t brought you together yet. Maybe it’s not time yet.” 

Debap gave him a resigned look. “Do you see anything in the Force?” She knew Ani was the strongest initiate in the Temple.

“Um,” Anakin stalled, caught off guard and unsure what to say. 

“I can’t either.” Debap’s eyes were a little shiny, but no tears fell. “The Space Corp doesn’t sound so bad. If I’m traveling and piloting Jedi or fixing ships, I might get to see my friends once in a while.” 

“You still have a few months, Debap. Don’t give up.” 

“I’m _not_ ,” Debap told him. “But I need to accept that I might fail.” 

Ani frowned, trying not to catch her fears, but also be kind. “I could fail too.”

Debap shook her head. “You’re the strongest initiate. If you can control your bad feelings, you’ll get picked. You have too much Force not to be. I think they’re just waiting to see if Master Jinn gets healthy enough to train you.” 

“Maybe.” Anakin knew this was _not_ the case but didn’t want to talk about it. “Maybe your master caught a cold too, and that’s why they haven’t seen you yet.”

Debap looked around the garden. Almost all of the masters here were really old and retired. “Well,” she tried to sound less gloomy. “They probably wouldn’t be at a puppet show.”

Ani giggled. “Probably not.”

“Hello, Initiate Skywalker.” 

Both of the children turned, startled by the deep voice behind them, their eyes following the very long legs and torso up to the face of Master Silvanus, so high above them. 

“Um, hello Master Silvanus.” Ani peered up, stunned the old master had remembered who he was since he hadn’t seemed to be all that impressed by the Chosen One stuff. 

“Did you and your friend enjoy the show?” he asked as he crouched down beside them, surprisingly steady for an old, retired Jedi. 

“Yes,” Anakin nodded. “It was really neat to see a puppet show like that. Master Ulli usually just uses the kind you put your hands in.” 

Simet chuckled. “You should ask him when he’s feeling better. He used to use the Breggle puppets when he was younger and is much better at it than I am.” 

Debap looked up at him with wide eyes. “Were you the person who was moving the knight and the nerfherder puppets?” She was fairly sure he was, but with so many powerful masters sitting so close together it had been hard to be sure. 

“Guilty as charged,” Simet quipped, trying not to laugh when the children gave him puzzled looks. “That means _yes_.” He held out a shaking hand to Debap. “I’ve met young Skywalker before but I don’t think I’ve met you. I’m cranky, old Master Si.” 

Debap clasped his hand gently, trying not to laugh. “I’m Initiate Debap Keen.” She frowned up at him, confused. “I thought Ani said you were Master Silvanus, with a short ‘i.’”

Si glanced at Anakin. “He is correct. I’m Simet, long ‘i,’ Silvanus.” 

“Oh,” Debap nodded. “Battlemaster Drallig talks about you sometimes. He says you used to be the Battlemaster when he was young.” 

Simet looked rather amused. “Yes, I was. A long time ago. I helped him train when he was a padawan and a young knight.” 

Debap gave Ani a bit of a sad look at the mention of padawans, before turning back to Si. “Master Drallig is amazing. We got to see him spar a few times.”

“He certainly is,” Simet agreed. 

“Master Silvanus?” Ani asked. “You called the puppets _Breggle puppets_. Are they used in Breggle games?” 

“Good question,” Simet nodded encouragingly. “Yes and no. There are Breggle stones that _are_ used in games and for demonstration purposes that are very similar to the puppets, and you use the same techniques to move them, but they aren’t as large, detailed, nor dressed in costume. The puppets are used for puppet shows and the Breggle stones are used for games or to demonstrate techniques.” 

“Why would you want to use Breggle stones to show people stuff?” Ani asked earnestly. “Isn’t is easier to just show people or tell them?” 

“Heh, usually, until you get enough practice in. However, some things are easier to demonstrate with two bodies, not one, or it can help to have a model to point things out. That’s why I had lessons with Master Ulli’s master when I was young. I also had difficult speaking when I was a new instructor, so those skills became very helpful for teaching.” He shrugged. “And the occasional puppet show.” 

“Debap was wondering if she should learn to play Grownup Breggle,” Ani reported. 

SImet gave her an assessing look. “ _Every_ Jedi should learn Grownup Breggle, at least the simple skills. They’re very useful for many different things.” 

“Are they useful in the Service Corps?” The words were out of her mouth before she had realized what she was saying. 

SI raised a thick eyebrow. “Getting close to the deadline, are we?” 

Debap hunched up, embarrassed. “Yes.”

Si patted her back, gently. “Yes, those skills are also useful in the Service Corps, as are your hand to hand, self defense skills. Sometimes Service Corps Jedi get into scrapes too. And some Breggle games are meditative in nature, they help you to focus. So yes, they are a useful skill, regardless.” He moved to sit in the grass next to them, rather than continue to crouch. “And Breggle teaches excellent skills for learning advanced Niman, so very useful for field knights as well. How long do you have?” 

“I had my three-month meeting a week and a half ago.”

“Debap is worried because the masters don’t talk to her after the saber matches,” Anakin explained. 

“Hmm,” Si nodded and Ani was reminded of Master Yoda. “No one ever talked to me after the saber matches either, whether I won or lost. I used to worry no one would pick me either.” 

“Why?” Debap asked. If Master Silvanus had grown up to be the Battlemaster, he had probably been pretty good at sparring. 

Simet shrugged. “I didn’t know why at the time. I was small for my age, but fairly well-focused for an eleven-year-old, so I was often paired with initiates who were both taller and older than I was. I thought it was unfair sometimes, their arms were so much longer than mine.” He spread his arms to demonstrate and the children giggled at how much longer they were than their own. “They had so much more reach. I had to work much harder to have a hope of winning and I made them work harder in turn. But after the matches the masters would always talk to my opponents, not me. It was very discouraging.” 

“Why weren’t they talking to you?” Debap asked. 

“I didn’t know then, I didn’t understand for many years, in fact not until I was old enough to take a padawan myself. The masters weren’t talking to me because they could see in the Force that my master was supposed to be someone else, someone I _did_ know, but who was waiting for me to get a bit bigger and stronger and _older_ before I had to leave my childhood behind.” 

“Who was it? How old were you?” Ani asked. 

“I had just turned twelve when Master Yoda asked me to be his padawan. I was very surprised but apparently no one else had been. And when I was a knight, he told me to go ask Jayzen, my first padawan, because it was very obvious to everyone else, even if I was still unsure. Sometimes we grownups get the message a little later than we should. Master Yoda sometimes has to give us a push.” 

“I only have three months left,” Debap tried not to get _too_ hopeful. “I still might end up in the Service Corps.” 

“You might,” Simet conceded. “But it doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong. And if you only have three months left,” he looked around and spied Master Yoda across the lawn, desperately trying to escape his costume as Vella and Drish tried to assist. “I can assure you that Master Yoda is on the lookout for you. He doesn’t tend to take padawans himself these days, but he’s very good at match-making.” 

Ani blinked at the sight of Yoda’s dragon tunic getting stuck on his head. Simet snorted quietly, and even Debap smiled a bit.

“Si?” 

All three of them looked up to see Master Bes had come over to see them, followed by a dark-haired woman with bright green eyes and warm, bronze skin. 

“Hello, Bes,” Simet gave Debap one more pat, then stood up directly from his sitting position. Ani was visibly impressed. 

Bes moved to introduce the woman behind him, but Simet was already holding out a shaking hand.

“Master Georgina, how good to see you.”

The woman’s eyes widened in surprise. “Master Silvanus, it’s so good to see you, but I didn’t expect you would remember me.” Clearly Master Bes was also surprised, though less so. 

“Of course, I remember you.” Si stood up a bit straighter, using his teacher tone of voice. “First form Niman, second form Shien. Padawan to the Master of Ricochet.” He gave her a knowing look. “I recognized you because Bes has your picture on his sitting room wall.” He sidestepped and gently drew Debap forward, bringing her into the conversation. “I was just discussing the various uses of Breggle skills with Initiate Keen here. She was trying to decide whether to incorporate Adult Breggle into her skill set.” 

Debap stared up at Georgina, wide-eyed. Simet leaned down to address her, her shaking had still on her shoulder. 

“Master Georgina is an excellent Niman practitioner. She can do the classic telekinetic tricks and some more novel ones that Master Bes developed when he was a field Jedi.” 

Georgina looked slightly bashful. “Um, I wouldn’t say I’m excellent at Niman. In fact, I’m taking a class to brush up on techniques right now, but I agree, basic Breggle skills are helpful to build Niman on.” 

“Oh, what class are you taking?” 

Georgina grinned at Debap before turning back to Si. “Um, I’m taking a techniques class with Master Rence and Master Jinn, and Master Monti sometimes guest lectures.” 

Simet nodded as if this were interesting news to him while Debap gasped. 

“You know Master Rence?” Debap asked. 

Georgina looked down at her, amused. “Yes, I do.” 

“Master Rence has quite the following among the initiates,” Simet explained. 

“She’s so cool!” Debap exclaimed. 

“She _is_ ,” Georgina agreed. “Though we aren’t learning Niman.” 

“What are you learning?” the girl asked, eyes bright. 

Si gave Bes a pleased look when Georgina knelt down to talk with Debap on her level. Bes stared back, incredulous. Simet gave him a sly wink, then gently tapped Anakin on the shoulder. 

“Come, Skywalker. I’ll show you the classic _twist and flip_ so you can trounce your little friends in Starfight games.” 

“Um, okay.” Ani was quite sure the Breggle lesson was just a ploy to separate him from Debap, but it felt right in the Force. 

Bes shuffled after him, still looking stunned. “Simet, did you just—”

“Yes.”

Bes glanced back at Georgina and Debap, the two now engaged in an animated conversation. 

“Did you see it in—”

“Yes.”

Bes felt a bit unsettled, as if he had entered a court full of intrigue and he hadn’t figured out the players yet. “But you haven’t spoken to Gigi in _years_.”

“I hadn’t spoke to the child before at all,” Simet shrugged. “But it seems to be going well.” He nodded at the pair of them, who were now sitting in the grass. Georgina was moving her arms to emphasize some point or demonstrate a move. 

Bes looked back, reading the pair of them in the Force. “Oh.”

“You’re welcome, Grandpa.” 

“Um . . .”

“Go introduce yourself,” Simet advised. 

“Yes. I should do that.” With a sigh, Bes headed back toward his former apprentice and the young girl, pausing when Gigi looked up to give him a brilliant smile. 

“Come along, Anakin. We’re not needed here.” Simet gently led him a short distance away and sat down in the grass again. “I’m sorry to have separated you from your friend, but the Force was quite clear that it was important for her to meet Gigi.” 

Anakin had had a vague sense that was what Master Silvanus had been trying to orchestrate, but he hadn’t been sure. “Why?” 

Simet raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think?”

Ani looked back at his friend, still chattering with Master Georgina. “But Debap isn’t sparring.” He wasn’t upset, just confused.

“Hmm, is competence with a lightsaber the only skill a Jedi is expected to have?” 

“No,” Ani frowned, thinking it over. The Jedi always said lightsabers were an important tool, not the _only_ tool, but everyone he knew who had been picked to be a padawan met their masters after saber matches, even if they weren’t picked right away. So far as he knew, the masters came to the saber bouts to see the initiates specifically. 

“Every field knight and padawan needs to be competent in saber craft, but not every Jedi becomes a field Jedi, even if they were a padawan. Some knights and masters are also looking for different skills.”

“Is that master a field Jedi?” Anakin had never met her before. 

“Yes,” Si replied as he struggled to open the pocket on his belt that he had taken to keeping a few Breggle stones in now that he was being asked about it more frequently. “But like her master, Gigi tends to use her mouth and her mind to persuade diplomats rather than her lightsaber.” 

Anakin frowned. “That sounds like it takes longer.” 

“It does, particularly at first. But not every problem is best solved with force, and sometimes being pushy just makes you a bully and makes the problems worse.” 

“People think Jedi are bullies?” Anakin asked, stunned. He had always heard about Jedi being heroes. 

“Some do. And sometimes they are right. There are people the Jedi have wronged or who feel the Jedi have wronged them, even if it was not our intent. We are not terribly popular with the Mandalorians, for example.” 

Anakin frowned. He had heard a few stories about Mandalorian mercenaries on Tatooine, and there were a few toughs he had seen who claimed to be Mandalorian, but the few times he had heard them mentioned in history class in the Temple they had seemed kind of boring. “I really don’t know much about Mandalorians,” he admitted. 

“Historically, the Jedi have been in conflict with the Mandalorians several times, sometimes when they have engaged in outright war with the Republic, sometimes with different factions and splinter groups. The Mandalorian people are much more varied and diverse than most people think, not unlike the Jedi. Some of them are told tales of old battles and cast the Jedi as rivals, if not villains. Others are more nuanced in their opinions. Some even respect us as warriors.” Simet finally managed to get the pouch open and clasped the stones in his hand. “Master Monti can tell you more. His specialty is historic Sith, but he’s also studied abandoned Mandalorian settlements, and many of the excavation sites he worked in when he was young were in their territory.” 

Anakin looked over at the master in question, who was showing the nerf puppet to several of the children. Anakin had heard about Sith in class and from the other students and Master Qui-Gon said the scary Zabrak who had stabbed him had been a Sith. Ani would have thought a Jedi who studied Sith (and Mandalorians) would have looked . . . scarier. Tougher. Stronger in the Force. 

He turned back to Master Si, who was holding the Breggle stones to teach him, but was looking at Gigi and Debap again. 

“Hmm, very nice.” 

Anakin followed his gaze, trying to see what he was talking about. “What is?”

Si leaned down so his face was just behind Anakin’s. He traced a line with his hand that seemed to join Debap and Master Gigi, and like when Master Monti had used the Force to make the air glow, the line was shiny, illuminating something in the Force.

“Do you see it?” Si asked quietly. 

“Yes,” Anakin whispered back, fascinated. The glow faded, but the connection remained. He could see it now that it had been pointed out. “What is it?” 

“It’s a potential in the Unifying Force. Your friend may have a relationship with Master Georgina in the future. Maybe Gigi will mentor her. Maybe she will be her master. Maybe it won’t happen. But it’s a possibility. It’s delicate, but very important.” 

Anakin nodded, then blinked and he could not see it anymore, or rather he couldn’t pick it out from the rest of the chaotic possibilities constantly churning in the Force. 

“You could see that before?” Anakin asked.

“Yes. That’s why I came over to speak with the two of you.” 

Anakin frowned. “But there are so many all the time. How do you know which ones are important?” 

Si had moved out of his personal space and was facing him, his face serious. “Many, many years of practice, and learning to pay attention. Master Yoda has no doubt told you that Force strength is not nearly as important as focus and discipline. Seeing the more subtle potentials, particularly in a crowd, is something that must be learned.” 

Ani looked back, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t see the potential again. “Wow.”

“Anakin!” Master Yoda suddenly appeared, looking a bit out of breath. “Looking for Debap I am, seen her you have?”

“She’s over there, Grandmaster Yoda,” Anakin pointed at her and Yoda followed his gaze. 

“Talking to Gigi she is, thank the Force I do.” 

“Relax, Master. It’s been taken care of.” 

“Saw it I did but stuck in my costume I was.” 

Simet looked him over in concern. “Are you alright? Your ears look a little swollen.” 

“Fine I will be.” The tiny master watched Debap and Gigi for several seconds. “Hmm, going well that is.” 

“It is,” Simet agreed. “Let it happen. In the meantime, I offered to show young Skywalker here the _twist and flip_.” 

“Ooh, yes. A useful trick that is.” Yoda sat down with them in the grass. “Teach you to play Starfights your tutors have?” he asked the boy. 

“Yes,” Anakin grinned. He had been enjoying the game, even if his stones sometimes shot off in odd directions. “That one is wizard.” 

Yoda snorted. “Teaching that one to Knight Kenobi I am. Likes Breggle starfights better than piloting he does.” 

“Nothing’s better than piloting,” Anakin protested. 

“Enjoy flying everyone does not,” Yoda explained. 

“I can’t remember the last time I piloted anything,” Simet mused. 

“Good,” Yoda retorted, then turned to Ani. “Let Master Si pilot you should not. Flies his ships like his Breggle stones he does. Many passengers needed sick bags did.” 

Anakin giggled. 

“Master, you knew most of my sick passengers were green _before_ takeoff.” Simet raised an eyebrow. Anakin laughed harder. 

Yoda looked at Anakin. “Still has a smart mouth he does.”

Simet rolled his eyes as he held up the Breggle stones and moved them into formation. “Yes, Master.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any thoughts? Have the rest of you also had Master Ell's meatballs? (Obviously not made with bantha meat). Did you enjoy the puppet show or was it boring? Did you enjoy the new use for Breggle? Or the different kinds of match-making? Let me know, and I hope you all had a great January. I"m still trying to figure out where mine went.


	5. If you Really Hold Me Tight, All the Way Home I'll Be Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan has a special guest for dinner, the knights embrace their inner children, the tourists get a treat and Yoda drops a bomb. And there is snow. A lot of snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics from this chapter title are from _Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it Snow!_ by Sammy Cahn and Jule Styne, which is technically more of a winter song than a Christmas song, but you always hear it around Christmas in the USA. (Interestingly according to wikipedia, in the Southern Hemisphere, it's played in the winter, not around Christmas). 
> 
> Here are two versions, the first by Dean Martin (that I was most familiar with) and the second by Frank Sinatra that had extra lyrics I had never heard, but had such a charming animation I had to link it. (The Breggle puppets move better than the animation though!)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mN7LW0Y00kE
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sE3uRRFVsmc
> 
> And now, this chapter comes with a **WARNING. This chapter has SPOILERS for _All the Little Lights_ , so if you haven't read it, you WILL be spoiled!**
> 
> For those of you who already read ATLL and know what is being spoiled, **see the end notes for more specifics warnings**.
> 
> The part about Jedi having a non-pathological speech delay was inspired by ~~someone else's fic which I am still trying to find and if I do I will properly tag and credit. (I've been looking for an hour now).~~ SWModdy's _Give Me Cookies_. (I had to google it. But I finally found it!)

It hadn’t seemed strange at first. A neat little package, unexpected but welcome, giving no hint of what was to come. 

_A friend had a spare one of these, and we thought you would appreciate it. –C.D._

He had had to analyze the note psychometrically. The handwriting was unfamiliar, and he could not think of any casual friends with those initials who would think to leave him a Light Night gift, but when he opened it, it all made sense. 

The second one was also a surprise when he found it on his doorstep when he returned from the salle. 

_I got a last-minute mission and had to ship out. I still don’t want to talk about it, but I do know you are happy, and I’m happy about that. –Bant_

The third was quietly handed to him at the wine tasting by Bail and Rouge. Winter Solstice festivals were actually quite common amongst the Core Worlds, and while names, dates and traditions varied, ornaments seemed to be universal (at least in that region of the galaxy). Rouge had explained that the gift was actually from Celly and Tia, who hoped they had the correct Master Yoda. Included in the package were a few handmade accessories: a tiny hat, a festive scarf and eensie-weensie socks to dress the tiny ornament in. Bail assured him that dressing tree ornaments was _not_ an Alderaani tradition, his young sisters were just odd. Rouge had then presented him with a very nice robe from her and Bail. Obi-Wan had thanked them, then gifted them in turn with a very tasteful drawing of all four siblings based on a pic he had taken at the last Biennial Summit. Obi-Wan had thought it was inadequate, particularly when compared to the robe, but both Bail and Rouge thanked him profusely, and even called their uncle, Bail Antilles, over to admire it and discuss where to hang it in the family residence at the Embassy. 

The fourth one had been accompanied by an awkward thank you note from Jitters for attending the engineer party and teaching him to make meatballs. And that had started a deluge at the floor party. He had returned to his rooms with three wrapped packages in a very familiar size, to find several more waiting at his door. The next morning had revealed another two and by the afternoon he had a full dozen pairs of tiny wise eyes staring back at him. 

He burst out laughing, not sure how else to react, then began hanging them on the plain, minimalist ornament rack he had made in a workshop last year but hadn’t been able to use it before now as he had been shipped out before the holiday had begun. 

He carefully reread each card before he placed each little green warrior on the rack.

_Saw this in the store and thought of you! –Kressa_

_Garen thought I should get you some ale instead, but I really thought you would enjoy this. –Reeft_

_Finally, someone to give this to I have. Sick of looking at his smug face I am. –Master Yaddle_

The last one had actually been a first edition. 

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan added the few ornaments he had already owned, that he had selected or fashioned himself or had been gifted with. Master Jinn hadn’t been into ornaments much himself and they were rarely home for more than one or two nights of the holiday, so they were new.

The first ornament was actually a carved shell he had purchased at the Mon Calamari Cultural Center during an event he had attended with Bant. The second was a souvenir from the Aldera spaceport, a small model of the royal palace. One was a blown glass teardrop he had purchased from an artisan on the relatively peaceful planet now known as Melidaan. It technically wasn’t a solstice ornament, but many families on that world, young and old, would hang them in their windows in memory of friends lost, whether they had died in the wars or not. Obi-Wan tried to take time to meditate on Cerasi and how she would have felt about the changes in her world once a year. Winter Solstice seemed a good time for that. 

The next one he had actually made himself, a simple decorative wire coil around a shard of deep blue sapphire he had salvaged from a lightsaber he had made when he was a padawan that had been destroyed in a rather brutal pirate attack. He had been forced to use a blaster to hold them off and it was the first time he and his master had ever encountered the then new Destroyer Droids. Master Jinn had spared him the lecture about losing his weapon as he had been too busy getting the gouges in his own hilt repaired. There had been a lot of drills after _that_ mission. 

The next was a small loop of very darkly stained hardwood beads, fashioned to look like a small wreath. The beads had originally adorned the gown Satine had worn when she was reinstated and formally recognized on her homeworld. Before he had left Mandalore for the final time, she had slipped the small ring of beads into his hand and kissed him on the cheek, whispering that it was a small token acknowledging each time he had saved her life. He had kept the beads in his box of art supplies for years, always intending to use them in some sort of project, but never able to decide what. Eventually he threaded one of the hair ties he had worn back then through the loop so he could hang it just as it was with his other ornaments. 

The last ornament he put on his rack was a handmade glass cricket that reminded him of Master Yoda and his favorite snack. 

He took stock of his now rather one-sided collection. It was traditional for Jedi to have ornaments representing their lineage kin, as well as close friends and people who were a positive influence. He really wasn’t sure what would be a good representation for Master Jinn, much less Master Dooku, but he clearly had Master Yoda covered. He had planned to go shopping with Bant after the holiday if she got back in time for the post-holiday sales, so perhaps inspiration would strike then. 

With his rack fully adorned, he tapped the button to turn on the tiny lights along the branches and the bright bulb on top, then put a layer of freshly polished Temple coins around the base for good fortune. One of the coins had a small hole drilled through it as if someone had worn it as a necklace. It certainly summed up his relationship with his grandmaster, so he strung another old hair tie through the hole and added it to the tree as well. 

Perhaps when he was shopping, he would find a suitable model ship for Garen. Reeft he was still unsure about, but the Dreselian’s interest in food as a child had extended to the culinary arts as an adult, so he had a few options. His newer friends and neighbors were not represented yet, but he suspected he could probably put together something shiny from the corpse of the Siren after he finished the rebuild to commemorate his friendship with Jitters. He glanced back at the first little green Grandmaster on his tree and realized his lineage family was bigger than he had thought, and he should start by trying to find an appropriate ornament for Master Drallig and Master Silvanus. And he should probably find something for Master Leila, and Master Bes, and the ever-patient Slo Min, and Master Igneous, and so many other teachers, mentors and friends. 

He was going to need a larger rack. Fortunately, the pattern they had used had been designed to be easy to add more branches or to add more height. The workshop leader had warned them that new padawans often led to increasing rack size. Obi-Wan didn’t think he needed to worry about that, but his busy knighthood was giving him reason enough. Maybe he should start hanging them from the ceiling like Slo Min did, his long life and occupation leading to an enormous collection that was annually displayed in both the tavern and the soda shop (and his quarters, at least according to rumor). 

The timer rang and Obi-Wan walked into the kitchen to remove dinner from the oven. He had cooked a small rock hen, enough meat for two diners and a bit leftover, with mashed tubers and legumes, and simple fruit pie had been made the day before. He carefully lit the small lanterns on his dining and caff tables, dimmed the lights in the common room, and turned on some festive instrumental music. He was all ready for a fine holiday dinner. Only his guest was missing. 

He slipped into a light meditation, enjoying the moment for what it was and reflecting on how he had spent his holiday. He couldn’t remember being home for this much of the holiday since he was an initiate, usually leaving for a mission before it was over or arriving home after it had started if they were home at all. One year they had arrived home on time, but he had spent the first three days with the healers and the rest of the holiday in bed at home until he was well enough to travel to Arkel IV for physical therapy, right on time for the rainy season. That year had sucked. Last year he had missed the holiday entirely between travel and missions. This year he had tried to make up for lost time and he was grateful to have someone to share it with. Not that he had managed it so far. 

He opened his eyes when he sensed his guest arriving on the floor in the lift, then got up to wait at the door. He could hear his neighbors in the hall, greeting his guest, giving well wishes as he drew closer. He opened the door with a bright smile just as his guest arrived. 

“Good evening, Grandmaster Yoda.” Obi-Wan knelt down to speak at his level. 

Yoda had been waving at the young knights down the hall, all of them in a festive, friendly mood, but he turned to Obi-Wan with an equally joyful look. “There you are, my not quite padawan.” He gave an Obi-Wan a hug, seeming almost relieved to have arrived. 

“Happy Light Night, Master.” Obi-Wan let him go. “I have some warm cider for you inside.” 

Another knight down the hall called out greetings and Yoda and Obi-Wan waved back before going inside and closing the door. 

“Apologize for my lateness I do,” Yoda said as Obi-Wan helped him up on the couch, then went to get him a drink. “Everyone to talk to me wanted. A very slow trip it was.” 

“You’re right on time,” Obi-Wan reassured him as he handed him a warm cup, then put a tray of small bites on the caff table: cheese, crackers, crickets, small vegetables. 

“Light Night Tardy I was.” 

Obi-Wan snorted. “Master Jinn used to complain everyone lived on Light Night Time during the holiday because it took twice as long to go anywhere because everyone wanted to chat.” He shrugged. “I think it’s healthy to take the time to connect with and appreciate our friends once a year, so long as we’re not late for our duties.” 

Yoda sipped his cider and sighed, ears wiggling in contentment. “Good that is.” He looked back at his host with a grin. “Correct you are. Very healthy it is to appreciate and cherish good friends. For Jedi, our friends our family are.” 

“Speaking of friends and family, um, it seems quite a few of my friends all found the perfect gift this year.” He gestured toward the ornament rack on the side table. 

Yoda turned to admire the rack, but his eyes widened after he took in the whole and really looked at the details. He blinked at it for several moments, then started giggling, then laughed outright. 

He and Obi-Wan shared a look, then both of them began laughing hysterically. 

“Why give you so many they did?” Yoda asked when he finally stopped laughing. 

“Everyone only gave me one,” Obi-Wan explained. “It was just that everyone had the same idea.” He got up and carefully picked up the rack and brought it over so Yoda could see it up close. 

“Gave them to you who did?” Yoda asked, still giggling. 

“Hmm, let’s see,” Obi-Wan tried to remember. “Master Drallig, Bant, Jitters, Kressa, Reeft, Kani, Bail and Rouge’s little sisters, Dex, Quinlan, Master Rence, Marni and Master Yaddle.” 

This set off more giggling in the little master. “Realize I did not that tell so many people about us you had.” 

“I _didn’t_ ,” Obi-Wan insisted, just as amused. “Most of them gave them to me because I was your half-padawan.” 

Yoda laughed again, then tapped the ornament dressed in the hat, scarf and socks. “Why dressed this one is?” 

“That one is from Celly and Tia Organa. They saw it in a store on Alderaan and the salesperson told them it was based on _Jedi Master Yoda_. I had mentioned you in passing and they decided to send it, but also decided the little guy might get cold with bare feet during the Winter Solstice, so they knit him tiny little accessories.” 

Yoda laughed harder. “Colder it needs to get, but yes, dress warmer I would if gone outside I had.” 

“If it’s okay with you, I wanted to include a pic in the thank you note. They were very concerned they had the wrong Master Yoda, even though Rouge assured them you _were_ small and green.” 

Yoda shook his head. “Silly princesses. Ask their parents or grandparents they should have. Diplomatic work on Alderaan I did when Simet my padawan was, and with Yan also I did. Remember Simet they might better, served as a diplomat there he did, even when the Battlemaster he was, but met me before they have.” 

Obi-Wan pulled out his comm and sat on the couch. Yoda used the Force to pluck the adorned ornament from the rack, then leaned against Obi-Wan, holding the ornament up between them. They both smiled into the camera lens and Obi-Wan took a few pictures. They both looked at the pictures and picked their favorite before Obi-Wan sent the file to the printers. 

“Bant knows about our relationship. Master Tahl told her because she was concerned Bant would find out by accident. She freaked out and that’s how Reeft found out. I’m not sure about Garen.” He frowned. “I don’t think any of my neighbors or Master Rence know about us, they’ve never asked or implied anything, but I don’t know about Master Drallig, Master Yaddle or Dex. Master Yaddle’s note could be read that way, and she sent the older version, not the new one.” 

Yoda carefully rehung his smaller self but did not move from leaning against his lover. “Hmm, yes. Know they do.” 

“I knew you had told Master Silvanus, but Master Drallig never said anything, so I didn’t assume.” 

Yoda snorted as he reached for an appetizer. “ _Tell him_ I did not. Tell Simet I did not. My full padawans they were, saw us coming they did. Told _me_ they did, quite obvious to them it was.” He bit into a cheese-covered cracker. “Ask me Dex did once. Unsure he was, wanted to embarrass you he did not. Also, not sure he was if told Qui-Gon we had. Worry not, thinks he does that cute together we are.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan sipped his own cider. “I wasn’t really hiding it, but I guess we weren’t being very demonstrative either.” 

“Yes. Happy he is, respects our discretion he does. As accepting everyone in Cocotown is not.” 

“That’s true everywhere, but patrons in Cocotown tend to be armed.” 

“Yes,” Yoda agreed. “Discreet we are, but still obvious to some it is.” 

“How did Master Yaddle find out?” Obi-Wan asked, concerned. “I know she is strong in the Force, but I _did_ try to be discreet around her.” 

Yoda snorted. “Obvious it was to her that a new lover I had. Told her I did after making her promise to leave you alone I did.”

“Ah.” Obi-Wan seemed surprised but not upset. “She’s shown remarkable restraint.” 

“Tease me she does but respect our bond she does. Also wanted to upset Simet she does not. Very protective of us he is.” 

“He’s been very supportive,” Obi-Wan agreed. 

“Yes,” Yoda took a deep breath through his nose. “Good smells from your kitchen there are.” 

“Roasted rock hen.” Obi-Wan ran his fingers over Yoda’s arm. “It will be ready to serve in another ten minutes.” He took another cracker and offered his lover an olive from his fingers, which Yoda eagerly accepted. “And there is pie. I got the recipe from Dex, though it’s probably not quite as spectacular as his.” 

“Made with love it is, just fine it will be.” 

Obi-Wan chuckled. “I missed you when I was away, but I was so busy this year, I can’t believe I haven’t spent time with you before now.” 

Yoda pressed against him. “Spending time with your friends you were. Healthy this is. Told me the knights did that the floor a party had. Go you did? Have a good time you did?”

“I did. Jitters helped me cook, and we both helped Kressa and Kani ice cookies. Lots of people brought food, there was cider and a very alcoholic punch, many gifts were exchanged, we had some dancing, which I no doubt looked awkward doing, and someone brought this device that lets you sing along to popular songs as if you were a professional singer. Some of us were really good at it, and some were delightfully terrible.”

Yoda chuckled. “Do that once Cin did. Went to a bar the teaching staff did. Very surprised they were that sing so well he can.”

“I didn’t know he was a singer.” 

“Yes. Took choir classes he did, even as an adult. In the adult choir he is. Sometimes solos he does.” 

“I’ll have to watch for him.” Obi-Wan took another cracker. 

“Sing you did?” Yoda asked. 

Obi-Wan snorted. “I agreed to sing backup for Quinlan. He’s a rather enthusiastic performer.” 

“Recorded was it?” Yoda tipped back his head, his look eager. 

“Yes!” Obi-Wan shook his head. “Kressa is making a compilation video.” He leaned down, gently touching his nose to Yoda’s. “I hear _you_ did some performing this week too.” 

Yoda rolled his eyes. “In a puppet show I was. Familiar with the role I am but do it for many years I have not.” He reached for another olive, but Obi-Wan got there first and handed him the whole bowl. “Enjoy the puppet show the children did.” 

“Everyone was talking about it at breakfast in the commissary this morning,” Obi-Wan reported. “They said it had been decades since the Jedi put on a show with the Breggle puppets.” 

“Hmm, yes, many more years since done it for the children we have. Master Ulli’s master used to teach the skills and direct the shows he did. Most of the puppeteers joined the Force have, no young Breggle players to replace them there have been. Those skills only used in the salles on Coruscant are now. Very few puppeteers still alive there are.” 

“Who else can do it?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Hmm, Ulli can. Has a lineage sister he does but retired to Trell she did. Used to perform in the puppet shows Simet did when young he was, when recovering from injury he was, but often not. Did this he did before Ulli born was. Use the Breggle puppets the clergy still do, considered an art form it is. The clergy here more busy tend to be, so do so recently they have not. But after the show, many interested Jedi there seemed to be.”

“I know _I’m_ interested. Not so much in being a puppeteer as in seeing a production. It sounds like they did more than children’s shows, especially if Master Silvanus was involved.” 

Yoda nodded. “Yes. Serious art it was. Some Breggle puppets life size are. Some productions mixed were, people and puppets together performed. Some puppets more than one puppeteer needed. Some shows simple are, like the children’s show. Others very sophisticated were. Good to hear that interest there was.” 

“That’s fascinating. I remember hearing about _Force puppets_ when I was a youngling, but I’ve never seen them.” 

“Mmm, many productions recorded were, but to see live a special treat is. More life in the production there is when feel it in the Force you can.”

“You said the clergy on other planets still do it?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Yes,” Yoda confirmed. “A good reason to visit it would be, just a retreat not.” 

“That certainly sounds appealing,” Obi-Wan agreed. 

“Hmm, request a show I should, get you back to Arkel IV I could.” 

Obi-Wan sighed, hugging Yoda gently. “That was a nice trip.” 

“Very nice. Got you to _relax_ I did.” 

Obi-Wan laughed. “I thought it was so wonderful that I got _you_ to relax.” 

“Mmm, yes,” Yoda picked up Obi-Wan’s hand and kissed it gently. “A good pair we are.” 

“We are,” Obi-Wan agreed. “But sadly, it’s time to carve the rock hen.”

“Cuddle more later we can.” Yoda’s stomach gurgled unexpectedly and they both laughed. “Time to feed other appetites it is.” 

Obi-Wan snorted as he gently slid out from under Yoda and made his way to the kitchen, allowing his guest to decide whether to stay or follow. Yoda took a few more minutes to admire (and laugh at) the ornaments, feeling the ones which were not tiny green grandmasters with the Force. He was a bit surprised by the teardrop, not in that Obi-Wan would want to commemorate his lost friend but surprised he had done so in this way. The shell was not surprising at all. The beads were . . . interesting. He glanced at Obi-Wan speculatively. So far as he knew the knight had not communicated with the Mandalorian Duchess in more than a decade, probably not since that arduous mission had ended, but there was still an entanglement there between them, not quite a potential, not yet, but all the pieces were still intact. The young woman had been very influential in his life. If they ever met again, there was a very strong possibility that _something_ could develop. 

Perhaps the Jedi should reopen diplomatic relations with the Mandalorians. Even if they were currently pacificists, they were a strong people and would be better as allies than not. 

Done with his casual snooping, Yoda took the small bowl of olives into the kitchen while Obi-Wan finished preparing dinner. The rock hen smelled delicious, the rest of the meal was piping hot, and the table had been set to be cozy and intimate. 

“To all this trouble you did not have to go,” Yoda told him. 

“I know,” Obi-Wan smiled as he began bringing the serving dishes to the table. “And it wasn’t that much trouble. Once you get everything set up it practically cooks itself.”

Yoda eyed the carved meat, glistening with gravy and the abundant sides. “Mmm, effort I know you made. Appreciate it I do, but your company enough for me would be.” 

“I know.” Obi-Wan checked that everything was turned off, then went to the table and pulled out the chair he set out when Yoda visited for meals. “Maybe I just wanted to treat you because you’re important to me and I love you.” 

Yoda chuckled as he approached the chair and raised his arms, content to be lifted up into it so he didn’t have to put down the olives. “Know this I do. Love you also I do.” He kissed Obi-Wan gently on the nose before the knight got him seated and pushed him up to the table, then sat down next to him. 

“How else have you been spending the holiday, besides performing in plays?” 

Yoda chuckled. “Hmm, many things I have done, busy I have been. Council meetings we have had but teaching this week I have not. A little shopping I have done, and meditated I have on plans for the upcoming season. Visited old friends I did, for some their last winter this will be. Spent time with the children also I have. Read many stories I have. Also, a big Breggle game we had in the rest home. Invited you we would have, but a spur of the moment thing it was. Much fun we had.” 

“That does sound like fun,” Obi-Wan smiled as he served them both. “I’m sorry I missed it.” He placed a small but full plate in front of his guest. “I was reading that there used to be traditional Breggle games played during the Nights of Light.”

“Yes,” Yoda confirmed. “Several seasonal games there were. For Nights of Light, sometimes play with glowing stones in the dark the Jedi would. The same games they would play, but more challenging it can be with visible landmarks not. Also easier for spectators to watch it is. Other games for winter there are, just the solstice not.” 

“Winter games?” Obi-Wan asked. “You use ice balls?” 

Yoda laughed. “Use ice balls you can. Or snow. Or snowflakes. In one game we had when younger I was, make snow sculptures we would, but with hands not. Very challenging it was and very silly they looked. Some held together only by the Force were, but fun it was. Got more snow in the winter Coruscant did back then.”

“I don’t think I ever saw snow before I went on the Winter Survival Trip to Arkel IV when I was an initiate,” Obi-Wan mused. “Quinlan was very excited that snow was forecast here this year.” 

“Heh, youth,” Yoda chuckled. “Used to get snow at the monastery we did. Sit on the windowsills I would, to watch it fall. Let me play in it, Brother Bodan would not. Go out in the snow he would not. For his health bad the cold was. For my size very bad the cold was. So, stay inside we would and watch the snow fall. Try to move the snowflakes with the Force we would.” 

“Would you just try to move them, or would you make patterns with them, like Breggle stones?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Both,” Yoda explained. “When a child you were, teach you to levitate stones in Creche Breggle they did, but pushing snowflakes the first game I learned was. Much easier it is, like splashing water it is, teach it to younger children you can, even before start to talk they do. Slow to talk my species is. Worried Brother Bodan was that forever mute I would be, then _boom_ , open the floodgates did, and thought I would never be quiet again he did.” 

Obi-Wan laughed. 

“Found out later I did very normal this was. Pushing snowflakes and splashing water simple games were, help me they did to learn to use the Force, to communicate before words I had. Sometimes do this with water or confetti teachers will with very strong children or children who slow to talk are. A good way to engage them it is.” 

“I think I can remember doing something like that when I was very small, splashing in the water with a grownup. I don’t remember who it was, just that playing in the water was fun.” 

“Hmm, yes, evaluating you a therapist was. Taught you baby signs they did on Alderaan, so preferred to talk with your hands over your voice you did, concerned the creche masters were. Evaluate you the therapist did, told them that _understand_ just fine you did, talk you would when ready you were. Teach you Force skills on time they could, encourage you to talk it might.” 

“I don’t remember _not_ talking,” Obi-Wan admitted. 

“Told the creche masters not to make a fuss the therapist did. Very clear it was that _communicate_ you could. Also clear it was that _paying attention_ you were.” Yoda chuckled. “Used to call you _the little monk_ they did because so quiet you were but think the therapist did that just trying to figure it all out you were. Like me you were, so quiet, and then one day, _boom_ , and suddenly talk you did. Jumped ahead you did. A little time you spent doing both words and signs, but quickly very verbal you became. Came to visit the creche one day I did. Came up to me you did, start chattering you did when only a few words the creche masters could get out of you.” Yoda laughed, eyes bright. “Flabbergasted they were. No idea they had how sharp your young mind was.” 

Obi-Wan found this amusing. “That makes sense if I wasn’t saying anything.” 

Yoda made a scoffing noise. “ _Communicate_ you did, spoke very will without words you did. Communication the same as speaking is not.” He shook his head. “Did the right thing they did, tested your hearing they did, had your voice evaluated they did. Make sounds just fine you did. Checked you for trauma they did. Realized the therapist did, still listening you were, expressing yourself just fine you were. Understand speech and commands very well you did, leaning on the Force to understand you were. Able to communicate with sign, facial expressions, body language you could. Made sure that a speech impediment you did not have they did but realize the creche masters did not that understand you they could. Reassurance they needed, also needed to be sure that missed a problem they had not.” 

“That explains a lot,” Obi-Wan mused after a moment. 

“Hmm?” Yoda looked up at him, mouth full. 

Obi-Wan shrugged. “I remember getting extra tests and evaluations when I was an initiate, that my friends didn’t have to take. I remember asking why I had to take them and being told they were checking my brain. I never knew _why_ they thought something might be wrong.” 

“A minor speech delay you had. Checking you for subtle issues they were. Very normal you were.” Yoda was quiet a moment. “Good it was that tested you were, ensure there was a problem not, but hmm, made the docents doubt your potential I think it did. Underestimate you they did because a little bit different you are, think there was a deficit you had that find they could not.” 

“Is it really that strange?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“No!” Yoda’s said emphatically. “As said I did, communicate just fine you could with the Force. Very expressive in the Force as a child you were. Communicate with you subconsciously the creche masters did, but consistent with your midi-chlorian count this was not. When recognize your Force abilities they did not, more concerning your speech delay was.” Yoda rolled his eyes. “Long delay it was not. But a thoughtful child you were. Actually liked meditation you did. Sit by yourself sometimes you did, listening to the Force. Mistaken for daydreaming that can be. The opposite happen can too. If very strong a child is in the Force, if very high their midi-chlorian counts are, if very demonstrative they are, miss deficits their caretakers can. Knew a young initiate I did, like you, very good at communicating without words she was, hear her in the Force the caretakers could so clearly, so notice the lack they did not. Just assumed they did that so strong in the Force she was, less need to speak she had.” 

“Why wasn’t she speaking?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Tongue-tied she was!” Yoda rolled his eyes. “Took her to Slo Min’s soda shop they did, teach the children how to talk to people, how to order food, wait in line, and pay for treats, like always they do. Let you order with the Force Slo Min will not. Had to speak she did.” He shook his head. “Very confused the creche masters were when report came back with _child with speech impediment needs more therapy or should learn Sign for interacting with the public_. Ooh, roll heads did for that one!” 

Obi-Wan looked half-amused and half-horrified. “Were they able to fix the problem?” 

“The Force I thank, yes.” Yoda held up his butter knife as if to demonstrate. “Snip-snip at the healers, a few months with a speech therapist, and fixed the problem was. But _ugh_ , missed it they did that covering a disability the child was. Overcompensated with you I think they did because think you were strong enough to speak with the Force they did not.” Yoda sighed. “Also, get the grease the squeaky wheel does. Miss the quiet ones sometimes they do.” 

Obi-Wan nodded. “I’m still learning when to squeak and when to just handle things on my own.”

“Yes,” Yoda agreed. “Better you are getting at asking for help.”

Obi-Wan looked down, focusing intentionally on his progress instead of his short-comings. Yoda said nothing but sent approval through their bond. 

“Is the food okay?” Obi-Wan asked after a moment. “We started talking and I neglected to ask.”

Yoda looked down at his half-empty plate. _Oops._ “Neglected to tell you I also did. Excellent the food is. Season the meat you did how?” 

Obi-Wan smiled. “I made an injectable brine with sea salt, olive oil, the usual herbs and fermented cricket sauce. I think if gives it a nice kick.” 

Yoda had to agree, though he was surprised. “Thought that like crickets very much you did not I did.” 

“I don’t _dislike_ the taste of crickets,” Obi-Wan explained. “They taste rather bland to me on their own. It’s more of a mouthfeel issue. I don’t like the feel of the bristles in whole crickets and I _really_ don’t care for the feel of bug butter, which has a stronger taste that I also don’t like. But fermented cricket sauce is an excellent base ingredient. It provides both saltiness and umami, and is a good alternative to fish paste.” 

“Hmm, note this I will.” Yoda took another bite of meat. “Vinegar also you used?”

“Yes, about the same amount. I also used a dash of both ingredients in the gravy.” 

Yoda sniffed at the tubers. “Spice in the mash there is. Which one it is?” 

“Hmm, chives and kren. And soured nerf cream.” 

“Very good the combination is. Balance each other the flavors do.”

“Well, we are Jedi. Our food should be in balance.” Obi-Wan kept a straight face for a moment before he cracked up. “The vegetables just have butter and salt. They are from the Temple greenhouses, so they are exceptionally fresh.” 

“Very good they are,” Yoda nodded. “Honored to be your dinner guest I am.”

“I’m honored to have you as my guest. Would you like more?” Obi-Wan asked. 

Yoda scrutinized the serving platter, tempted. “A little bit, please.” 

“I’ll get more meat on your bones yet,” Obi-Wan grinned as he served his guest. 

Yoda rolled his eyes. “Talking to Healer Les you have been?” 

“Only socially,” Obi-Wan assured him. “He told me lean animal protein is good for your species.” 

“Hmm, take good care of me you do.” 

“Of course,” Obi-Wan ran a gentle hand over his head. “I just wish I could do it more often.” 

“Enjoy your precious care I do. Warm my heart it will until together again we can be.” 

They continued to enjoy their meal and the company. 

“Did you get to do everything you wanted to do for the Nights of Light this year?” 

Yoda chuckled. “Accepted long ago I did that for holidays wishes exceed time do. Saw old friends I did. Spend time with the children I did. Played with Simet I did. Teach together we did, nurtured a possible training bond we did. Spending time with my romantic partner I am,” he nodded at Obi-Wan. “Though hoped to do that more I did. Spoke with Yan on the comm I did, concerns for him I have. Also still have dinner plans with Cin and Wallace I do.” He gave Obi-Wan a pointed look. “Maybe plans with you I can still make.” 

Obi-Wan smiled back. “The night is young. And we still have a few days left.” He paused, feeling the Force. “I don’t _think_ I’ll be shipping out before the end of the holiday, but that could change.” 

Yoda pointed at him with his fork. “Said you had pie you did. Ship you out before pie I will not.” 

“So, you love me for my baked goods,” Obi-Wan chuckled, eyes dancing. 

“Hoping for Light Night Sex I also was, but already baked the pie is.” He looked Obi-Wan up, down and in the Force. “Need a little more time to simmer I think you do.”

Obi-Wan grew still, looking inward. “A little, yes. I should have spent more time with you sooner.”

“Apologize not,” Yoda told him, using his foot to squeeze Obi-Wan’s knee under the table. “Time well spent it was.” He closed his eyes as Obi-Wan ran his fingertips over his instep. “Hmm, tomorrow night maybe?”

“Maybe,” Obi-Wan said, but his tone said _probably_ as he leaned down to kiss the top of Yoda’s head. 

“Mmm. Yes.” He turned back to his plate but noted that Obi-Wan had moved his chair just a bit closer.

“So, tell me about this training bond you were nurturing with Master Silvanus.” 

“Yes, developing well that is. Introduced Debap to Master Bes’s last padawan, Georgina. Much good potential there is for them.” 

“Debap is Anakin’s friend with the dark, curly hair and the good grasp of saber forms?” 

“Yes,” Yoda nodded, knowing Obi-Wan didn’t often speak with the initiates, so he didn’t always match names to faces correctly.

“That’s good to hear. She must be getting close to the deadline.”

“Getting close Anakin is too.” 

Obi-Wan frowned. “I know that is difficult, though he still has time. It sounds as if he’s been getting better at controlling himself and releasing his emotions.”

“Yes, the biggest hurdle that is,” Yoda agreed. “Much improvement he has shown. But much fear still he has.” 

“Has his therapist been helping the situation?” Obi-Wan frowned, stopping himself. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business.”

“Suggested the therapist first you did. Natural it is that want to know if effective it has been. Yes, very helpful it has been. Vygor working with Docent Redmond is to screen initiates. Addressing more psychological issues earlier we are, preparing initiates for adulthood better we are.” 

“That’s good to hear,” Obi-Wan nodded. 

“Considered Anakin a few knights and masters have, but his talents intimidating are.” 

“He’ll need someone who can keep up with him, and mentors suited to his specific talents.” Obi-Wan sipped at his water, then wiped his mouth. “I admit, I am surprised Master Jinn is no longer pursuing him, at least according to Master Tahl.” 

“Censored he no longer is but approved to take on another padawan he is not.” Yoda chose his words carefully. “Teaching senior padawans and young knights he is, suited to his talents and abilities it is, but allow his issues to harm another child it does not. A better mentor for Anakin he is than a master he would be. Too much like young Xanatos Anakin is. Qui-Gon treats him like he did Xan already he does. Okay it is if a mentor special an initiate treats, but more disciplined a master must be. Still too infatuated Qui-Gon with Anakin is, with his power, with his potential. Too easily overlooks his flaws he does.” 

“Yes, well, he definitely didn’t have that problem with me.” 

“Focused on your flaws he did, your talents not. Out of balance he still is, in many ways.” 

“If he can’t have a balanced relationship with a padawan, perhaps he’s on the right path without one. He and Anakin do seem to have a good mentoring relationship.” 

“They do,” Yoda agree, putting down his silverware. “Thank you. Excellent the meal was.” 

“You’re welcome. The company was even better.” Obi-Wan began collecting the dirty dishes. “Would you like your Light Night gift now?” 

Yoda gave him a small smile. “Give me a gift you did not have to do.”

“I know.” Obi-Wan smiled back from where he was rinsing the dishes and putting away the food. “But the Lights of Night and Giving Days are an opportunity to show our love to those we spend our lives with.” He turned off the water tap and dried his hands. “You are the person I love the most.” 

He went over to the table the ornament rack had been on, taking two packages out of the drawer, then joined Yoda on the couch.

Yoda’s ears perked curiously. “Showering me with riches you are.” 

Obi-Wan laughed. “The larger one is from Bail and Rouge. And possibly Big Bail, I wasn’t sure. The smaller one is from me.” He put the gifts down between them. 

“Get them a gift I did not.” 

“That’s okay, Master. They just wanted to send you good wishes for the holiday.” 

Yoda picked up the gift curiously, then carefully used his claws to unwrap the gilt paper without tearing it, then opened the box within to reveal a holiday assortment of spiced crickets. 

“Ah!” Yoda smiled joyfully. “Just ran out I did!” 

“Smile!”

Yoda looked up to find Obi-Wan snapping a pic of his happy face, the crickets on his lap. 

“For your thank you note,” Obi-Wan explained. 

Yoda shook his head. “Need that many pics of me your cousins do not.” 

Obi-Wan chuckled. “Rouge thinks you’re adorable, though she would never tell you that herself, and Celly and Tia were very curious about you.” 

“As exciting in real life I am not.” 

“I think knowing you personally is even better than hearing your stories, but I’m admittedly biased.”

Yoda snorted as he smoothed out the wrapping paper and picked up the smaller box. “Hmm, too small for ale it is.”

“Ale is for Master’s Day.”

“Not heavy enough for Breggle Stones it is.” 

Obi-Wan snickered. “Are there any Breggle Stones you _don’t_ have?” 

Yoda chuckled back. “Probably not.” He turned the package over, admiring the wrapping. “Such a lovely package it is.”

“You’re worth the effort, Master.”

“Spoil me you do, Precious.” Yoda squeezed his hand gently before opening the package just as carefully.

“Always, Dear One.”

The paper opened to reveal a plain box, which Yoda promptly opened to reveal a very nice fountain pen, well sized for his hand.

"Oh!” He picked it up, balancing it in his grip. “Beautiful this is. Thank you I do.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “You said the nib was wearing out on your old one, and you had replaced the ink well too many times already. It’s time for a new one.”

“Too expensive this is,” Yoda worried. 

“No, it isn’t. I saved the credits and I bought it on sale. It’s last year’s model, which is how I was able to afford such a nice one.”

Yoda smiled down at the pen, feeling in the Force that he would enjoy this gift for many years to come. “Thank you, so much. Think of you I will whenever I use it I will.” 

“I’m so glad you like it, but we can return it or exchange it if you would prefer something else.”

“No. An excellent choice it is. Wonderful it is.” With another smile, he put it back in the box and closed it, looking forward to trying it out at home. “Thank you.” He put the box on the table, then reached into the shoulder bag he had brought with him and pulled out a small, flat wrapped package. “Something for you I also have,” he said as he passed it to Obi-Wan. 

“You didn’t have to, Master. Thank you.” He followed Yoda’s example of admiring the wrappings before he carefully untied the ribbon and slipped off the paper and opened the box to find something wrapped in protective tissue paper. 

“Oh, Master, this is beautiful,” Obi-Wan sighed as the gift was finally revealed. He held up a small suncatcher, made of stained glass interspersed with thinly cut semi-precious stones. He let his hand hover over it, feeling it psychometrically. “Master, were these lightsaber crystals?” 

“Some were, yes,” Yoda nodded. “Salvage many shards when making and repairing lightsabers Master Dedrin did. When wear out or shatter the crystals did, cut and polish fine stones he would and make suncatchers or glass panels we would. Learned to work stained glass in the monastery I did. Made that one together many years ago we did. A gift to Moosie Kanu, his padawan, it was. A mandala in glass and gems. Kept it Master Dedrin did when passed into the Force Moosie did, then gave it to me when died he did. Think I do that want you to have it he would.” 

Obi-Wan held the suncatcher up to the light, admiring it. “It’s beautiful, Master. Are you sure you want to give this away?” 

“Yes, very sure I am. Joy and peace bring to you I hope it will.” 

“That’s amazing, Master.” He turned to gaze at his lover. “I never knew you made stained glass art.”

“Do it often I do not. Very messy it is. Sharp glass everywhere gets. But once in a while, do it I will. Small pieces I still make.”

“Thank you.” He leaned down and kissed Yoda’s lips. “If you ever want it back, I’ll understand.”

“Pfft, no. Have many of them I do. Made dozens together we did one year. Made Light Night ornaments. Replacing the ceiling in the attic meditation chambers they were, so lots of scrap glass leftover there was. Many of us made little projects did. Many gifts for friends also.”

“Thank you, Master. For the gift and the history.” He carried it over to a hook in his ceiling left by a previous resident and positioned the suncatcher so the sunbeams could dance in the colored panes and gems. Come springtime it would be glorious. 

“It really belonged to Moosie Kanu?” Obi-Wan asked, admiring it, even in the relatively weak lighting in the room. 

“Yes. Used some shards from Moosie’s saber stones we did. Said Moosie did that still sing happily the tiny shards would when warm in the sun they did.”

“They do sing,” Obi-Wan confirmed quietly, eyes closed.

“Happy to be with you they are, give them a good home you will.”

“They do feel in harmony in the Force. Not like a saber blade, but in harmony nonetheless.” 

“Yes. Good for meditating suncatchers are, even if a cloudy day it is. The mandala design meant to be calming is. Helped Moosie to release his anxiety it did.” 

“I look forward to meditating on it.”

“Good.” 

Obi-Wan came back to the couch to find Yoda was smoothing out the gilt paper his crickets had been wrapped in. “Making paper figures?”

“Yes,” Yoda nodded. “A holiday this is. Waste the paper we should not.” He held up the sheet, turning it around, trying to decide how best to cut it to size. “Scissors you have?”

“I do.” Obi-Wan went toward his desk in his bedroom. “I also have a papercutter if you’d prefer.” 

“Yes!” Yoda agreed, grinning when Obi-Wan returned with the papercutter and a tote full of stationary supplies. With care, he cut the now smooth sheet into a large square while Obi-Wan began to smooth his own leftover wrappings. 

“Remember when learn to fold paper figures as a child you did?” 

“I do. One of the nuns came and taught us in the creche. I _think_ it was Sister Drish, but I’m not sure. We learned simple forms then, and you used to teach me different ones after we would finish decorating your plants for Light Night. Did you learn figure folding at the monastery?” 

“No. Learn it there I did not.” Yoda began to fold his sheet. Obi-Wan handed him a bone folder to help smooth the creases. “Thank you. No, none of the monks I knew made them while there I was. Some quilling did. Make decorations with scrap paper strips they would. But paper folding they did not. When more initiates taught in the Temple were, put paper folding into the curriculum we did. Taught me one of my padawans did, long ago. Think of her I do when make them I do.”

“What was she like?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Hmm, very smart, very skilled, very kind Helena was. Worked with paper she did, also macrame she did. Strong affinity for plants she had. Knighted she was, worked with the Agri Corps she did, handling the diplomacy and negotiations she did. Had a good sense she did for when intervention needed was, feel the ecosystem she could. Lived many years she did, had several padawans she did, helped to feed many people she did. Retired as a field Jedi she did, then became a creche master she did. Pass peacefully into the Force in her sleep she did. A rare gift for a Jedi that is.”

“It certainly is.” 

“Remember her to another in a long time I have not. Thank you for sharing the memory with me I do.” 

“Thank you for sharing it, Master.”

“What making you are?” Yoda asked.

“A hawkbat,” Obi-Wan replied as he adjusted the folds. “It was my favorite one to do in the initiate dorms because we could see live hawkbats from the Temple windows. It was the only wild creatures I could see on Coruscant. What are you making?” 

Yoda was very carefully tweaking the details and making tiny folds. “Hmm. Making a dragon I am.” 

“Ah, very appropriate then.” Obi-Wan finished his hawkbat, then began looking over the remaining paper scraps. 

“Grrr.” Yoda made his dragon rear up before he put it on the table where they both admired it. 

“The paper design really stands out on your dragon.”

“It does,” Yoda agreed. “Seeing your cousins again soon you will?” 

“Bail and Rouge? I know they want to get together for a show, but I don’t know if it will be before my next mission or when I get back.” 

“Soon enough that is. Give the dragon to your cousins you can? A thank you for them it is.” 

“I can,” Obi-Wan smiled. “I think Rouge especially will appreciate it.” He leaned down to look closer. “The detail is amazing.” 

“Many years of experience I have had.” Yoda grinned then watched Obi-Wan begin folding another form. “What making now you are?” 

“A little nerfling to go with your dragon.” 

“Ah, yes, a good dragon nerf friends needs.” He picked up the paper from Obi-Wan’s gift so he could cut it up for adult nerfs. “Know the story Bail and Rouge do?”

“I’ll tell them, but they _are_ from Alderaan. Even if the story didn’t happen there, that _is_ the native planet for nerfs, so they might know a version of it.” Obi-Wan finished folding the nerf, then rooted through the tote to find a marker to draw in the eyes and a smiling mouth. Yoda giggled at the happy nerf, then continued to fold his own. 

“Use the rest of the fancy paper you can,” Yoda told him. 

“Hmm, it’s too fancy to fold a Knight Grell.” Obi-Wan looked it over. “But I have an idea,” he said as he trimmed the paper to size. 

Yoda finished his adult nerf and gave it a similar smiling face, then watched Obi-Wan cut and fold, trying to guess what it would be. 

“And _done_ ,” Obi-Wan put down a neatly folded tree, the gilt designs making it look like a decorated Light Night tree. “On Alderaan they have many more evergreen trees, even today, so they still decorate real trees for their Winter Solstice celebrations.”

“Hmm, let the nerfs eat the tree do not,” Yoda giggled and his nerf nuzzled at the tree. 

“Yes, the tree ornaments would probably cause indigestion,” Obi-Wan laughed as he collected the paper scraps and tossed them in the recycler, then put the tote away. He then sat down on the couch. “I had another . . . um, not a gift, but a plan for you for Light Night.” 

“Oh?” Yoda asked. “More than pie you have planned?” 

“It’s just an idea. You don’t have to do it.”

“Have what in mind you do?” Yoda asked. 

“A moment to be together in.” He stood up. “Will you come with me?” he asked, holding out his arms. 

“Yes.” Yoda raised his own arms, letting Obi-Wan pick him up and carry him. He was surprised to be carried into Obi-Wan’s bedroom and placed gently on the bed. Obi-Wan leaned down to softly kiss him, then began to set the atmosphere. He lit a candle and the scent of pine woods started to fill the room. The blackout curtains were drawn, the door half-closed, then Obi-Wan turned down the lights and darkened the display on the chrono. He turned on a small meditation fountain, letting it make a calming trickle, then turned on the star projector, which had become a permanent fixture in his room. With the mood set, he joined Yoda on the bed, cuddling close so they could watch the stars. 

“Hmm, invite me into your bed before you have not.” Yoda pressed against him. “Getting frisky you are?”

Obi-Wan chuckled. “No, this isn’t an invitation to Light Night Sex, but hmm, I think it definitely has simmer potential.” 

“Good.” Yoda turned his head to examine the starfield. He could see the galactic center peeking over the edge of the horizon, and judging by the size, the view was still from somewhere in the Core, but in the outer regions of it. A relatively short trip from Coruscant most likely. He puzzled over the bright spot, the shape of it, then looked for other landmarks. The view seemed familiar. 

“Arkel IV this is?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirmed. “Remember when we went out into the meadow and watched the stars?” 

“Yes. The Celestial Night meditation we did. Felt the planet at our backs, watched the wheeling stars we did. Felt the Force we did. A very good memory that is.” 

“Yes. A good moment to be in together. I can’t take you away to Arkel IV, so I tried to give you a taste of the memory. And without the rocks poking into my back or the insects pestering us.” 

“Mmm, yes, a very nice moment. Kiss me again under the stars you will?” 

“Yes.” Obi-Wan carefully moved so their faces could line up without accidentally pushing his lover off the narrow bed. “Many, many times.”

Yoda growled, tugging on Obi-Wan’s tunics. “Come closer you will, Precious.” 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan whispered against his lips and then they were kissing, not the gentle pecks Obi-Wan had been giving him all evening, but deep, passionate kisses that set their bond blazing and made his skin tingle. Obi-Wan released his lips to kiss down his neck and Yoda purred in his arms, delighting in this warm intimacy. 

“ _Oh_ , missed your loving touch I have.”

Obi-Wan sighed against his skin, tension bleeding from his body. “I’ve missed you in my mind.” He held back a small moan as Yoda reached for him through their bond, his body tingling at the warm contact. 

Yoda pressed his face into Obi-Wan’s tunic-covered chest. “Smell so good you do. Missed your scent I have.” 

Obi-Wan began to nuzzle and lick at one of Yoda’s ears. “I’ve missed touching you, carrying you, holding you.”

“Hold me!” Yoda gasped.

Obi-Wan rolled over to lay above him, taking care not to lean too much of his weight on his lover. Yoda purred in pleased surprise, kicking his feet against Obi-Wan’s sides, enjoying the feel of the knight gently pressing him into the mattress. 

“Hrmm, taking charge you are?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “No. I just wanted to give you a chance to relax.” He frowned. “Is it too much?”

“Sexy it is, Beautiful. Turning me on you are.” He could just see Obi-Wan’s face blush in the starlight. 

“I meant is my weight too much or are you okay?” 

Yoda growled and writhed to press against him. “ _Good_ your weight feels. Kiss me like the stud you are!” 

Obi-Wan snorted but moved to comply. “I’m pretty sure you’re still leading the dance, but I’m not complaining.”

“ _Ohh_ ,” Yoda gasped as he felt Obi-Wan press against him more fully, kissing and caressing him. “So good your kisses are,” he moaned, clutching at his lover with his hands and feet. “So warm you are against me.”

“I can feel you in my mind,” Obi-Wan breathed against his skin. “I can feel your heartbeat against my chest. I can feel your love in our bond.” He tucked his head next to his lover’s, letting Yoda kiss him back and explore. 

“Want to make love to you I do,” Yoda whispered between gentle kisses and nibbles. “Want to suck you I do,” he sighed, running his hands over Obi-Wan’s chest. He could feel one of Obi-Wan’s hands snaking down under his back to cradle him closer. “Want to rub against your naked body I do.” He could feel the gentle bubbles of Obi-Wan’s desire flowing into his mind. Yes, his love was simmering quite nicely. 

“Want to feel you deep inside my body I do,” he quietly gasped. “Want to come in your arms I do, screaming your name.” 

“Mmm,” Obi-Wan moved his hips a bit, not yet aroused but getting warmer. “I think a few of those things can be arranged.” 

“Touch my body you will?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan kissed him. 

“Hold my penis in your warm hands you will?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan kissed him again. “I’ll hold you in my arms, against my body, and stroke you into ecstasy.”

Yoda froze to stare at him, wide-eyed. Obi-Wan was not usually this bold in his pillow talk. “Hold you to that I _will_.” 

“You have my word.”

Yoda shivered beneath him. “So sexy you are, Beautiful.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “I’m glad you appreciate my dorky self.”

“Your _sexy,_ dorky self.”

“What else should I do for you?”

“Mmm, let me make you come you could.” He pulled gently until Obi-Wan leaned down so he could whisper in his ear. “Let me into your body you could. Let me touch deep inside your body you could. Let me feel you tremble and moan you could. Let me fuck you so hard that see many more stars you could. Let me make love to you until shake the Tower does you could.” 

Obi-Wan forced himself to control his breathing. “N-not,” he panted. “Not in the Knight’s Tower.” 

“Show all those young knights you would, what real lovemaking is.” 

Obi-Wan chuckled against his shoulder. “Yes to the lovemaking, _no_ to the Knight’s Tower. My neighbors already think I’m weird.” 

“Weird you are not.” Yoda stretched, slowing down his seduction, fairly sure he had stirred his lover’s slowly building desire and that his passion would grow in the hours to come. “A stud you are. Many masters wish that more promiscuous you were. Share the love they want.” 

Obi-Wan laughed harder. “Too bad. I’m quite content with you.” 

“Hmm, potentials you still have, but with my neighbors they are not.” 

“You’re the only master for me.”

“Pity,” Yoda tickled at him with his toe claws. “Plenty of sexy masters I know, much good sex you could be having.” 

“I’m getting enough for me.”

“ _Good_.” 

A loud knocking sound came from the front door. “Kenobi!” The voice was unmistakably Quinlan’s. “It’s time!” 

Yoda raised his brow questioningly. “A threesome you have arranged?” 

Obi-Wan seemed caught between laughing and choking on his own spit. 

“It’s snowing!” Quinlan called from the hallway. 

“Quinlan is trying to get us all to go play in the falling snow,” Obi-Wan explained. 

There was a quiet murmur from the hall that both Yoda and Obi-Wan were quite sure was Kressa Carlin. 

“Oh.” Quinlan sounded contrite. “Sorry Grandmaster Yoda! Enjoy your dinner!”

The giggles hit Obi-Wan and Yoda simultaneously. Obi-Wan flopped over on his back, laughing hysterically. Their mutual joy and amusement flooded the bond, leaving them laughing longer than they normally would. 

“In the snow playing?” Yoda asked, catching his breath.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan was also taking in large gulps of air. “One of Quinlan’s happier childhood memories on Kiffu is playing in the snow when he was a small boy. He was very excited when snow was forecast this week and didn’t want anyone to miss it.” 

“Want to go you do?”

Obi-Wan wiped his eyes. “I want to spend this time with you. Did you want to play in the falling snow?”

Yoda shrugged. “Show you Snow Breggle I could.” 

Obi-Wan stretched, then turned his head to face him. “Would you be warm enough? I could hold you under my winter robe, but your ears and head wouldn’t be protected.”

Yoda chuckled. “Told me to bring a warm hat Simet did. Understand why now I do.” He sighed. “A beautiful memory this was, Love. Make a new one we should?” 

Obi-Wan paused, feeling it out with the Force. “Yes, we should.” He rolled over to give Yoda one more deep kiss, then stood up to snuff the candle and set the room to rights. 

“Where going to enjoy the snow the knights are?” Yoda asked as he smoothed his clothes and hair. 

“The plaza. It’s less windy than the roof,” Obi-Wan replied as he stepped into the fresher to brush his hair and check his appearance. 

“Hmm, a good place for Snow Breggle that is,” Yoda followed Obi-Wan to the living room and watched as the knight put on the harness he wore when they went on long rambles outside the Temple together, then put his thick winter robe over it. He then pulled a wide, bantha wool scarf out of the closet. Yoda put on the knit hat he had brought in his bag and pulled his hood over that, then let Obi-Wan wrap him up in the warm scarf before he was lifted up to sit in the harness, close against his lover’s chest. Obi-Wan adjusted the fastenings inside his robe so the material closed above and below Yoda’s head to keep him warm. 

“Comfortable?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“Perfect it is, my virile stallion.”

Obi-Wan laughed as he tucked his own scarf around his neck, then stepped out into the hall. 

“Alright, alright Vos, we’re coming!” Kani closed her door and covered her montrals in a warm wrap while her Twilek girlfriend similarly bundled up, tucking her lekku into a robe with an enormous hood. 

“It’s really coming down!” Vos jogged toward the lift, his tone excited, as if he were still a young boy. 

“It looks cold and slippery out there,” Jitters worried as he looked out the window, but he reluctantly followed, fastening a cold weather parka as he joined them. 

“Master Yoda!” Kressa grinned, trying not to laugh at the esteemed grandmaster who was strapped to his former half-padawan like a tiny youngling. “I didn’t realize you would want to join us.”

“Enjoy the snow for many years I have not.” Yoda and Obi-Wan shared a fond glance. “Lucky I am that have a young knight I do. Keep me warm he will.”

Kani and her girlfriend fought back giggles. Jitters and Quinlan merely looked surprised. 

“Accumulation we are getting?” Yoda asked Vos.

“Yes, Master Yoda.” Vos was visibly tempering his excitement. “The plaza is almost completely covered.” 

“Mmm,” Yoda laced his fingers together. “Good to hear that is.” 

The lift arrived and the knights entered. 

“You want to play in the snow, Master Yoda?” Vos asked. 

“Yes,” Yoda nodded, looking up at the young Kiffar. “Teach Obi-Wan Snow Breggle I will if enough snow there is.” 

“There’s a Snow Breggle?” Jitters asked, intrigued. 

“Breggle started by the monks and nuns was, before knights there were. A vow of poverty they took, much more severe it was then. Used natural materials they did. Rocks, wood, leaves, snow. Knights were the ones who formal materials used. Needed uniform stones to hone Niman skills they did. Expanded Breggle games did after that.” 

“Wow.” Jitters was clearly taking note. 

“How wanted to play you did?” Yoda asked.

“Um,” Quinlan shrugged. “Snow angels, snowball fights, just watching the snow I guess.” 

“Fun that can be too.”

Quinlan grinned back at him. 

“Mmm, enough snow for a snowman there is not,” Yoda sighed. “More snow on Arkel IV there is.” 

“There’s more snow on Hoth too, but I wouldn’t want to visit just to build a snowman,” Obi-Wan replied. 

“Hmm,” Yoda looked up at Obi-Wan. “Play on Hoth I would not either. For my old bones too cold that is.” 

“Me too!” Kressa piped up. The other knights laughed in agreement. 

The lift let them out into the Visitor’s Hall. After navigating through a throng of holiday tourist they took the stairs down to the plaza. Quinlan rushed ahead, barely able to contain his excitement. Kani’s girlfriend held back.

“Why is Master Yoda coming with us?” she whispered. “Is he upset we’re not acting mature?” 

Kani shrugged. “If he says he’s going to play in the snow, he’s going to play in the snow. He and Kenobi are really into Breggle.” 

The Twilek looked dubiously at Obi-Wan’s back. “He’s not going to think we’re silly?” 

Kani rolled her eyes. “Grandmaster Yoda thinks it’s healthy to be a little silly once in a while. If you keep hanging out on my floor, you’ll get used to it. Kenobi was his half-padawan so he visits a lot. We all got to know him when Obi-Wan got really sick and had a vigil.” 

“Okay,” the Twilek nodded, but it was clear she was still nervous around the grandmaster. 

Kani kissed her on the lips. “Don’t worry about it. _Trust me_.” 

“I do.” She ran a hand over Kani’s lekku. “Let’s go play in the cold, then warm each other up.” 

“ _Oh, yes_.” Kani kissed her again, then grabbed her hand and the two of them dashed down the stairs together, laughing. 

They soon joined the knights on the plaza, who were looking up into the darkened sky, watching the giant snowflakes falling down on them from the thick clouds. Quinlan had his arms out and was turning in circles, laughing in joy, while Kressa, Obi-Wan and Yoda looked on, and Jitters crouched in the snow, feeling it with his hands, trying to determine if it was sticky enough for snowballs. 

“Was it like this when you were young, Quinlan?” Kressa asked. 

“Yes.” Quinlan lowered his arms and stopped turning to face them. “It was just like this, thick white flakes falling from the sky.” 

“What about you, Master?” Obi-Wan asked quietly. “Is it like what you remember?” 

“Beautiful it is,” Yoda murmured, eyes full of wonder. “Yes, snow like this it would when young I was. Snow like this when growing up I was it would. Snow like this on Coruscant it would when a young knight I was.” He moved his hand and the flakes swirled away from him. “Yes, very good for playing with it is.” 

The young knights scattered around the plaza, each finding their own way to enjoy the weather. Kani and her girlfriend began to stroll along the perimeter, talking quietly between themselves and admiring the lights on adjacent buildings. Jitters seemed content to gather fallen snow together with his mittened hands, building it into a larger structure. Quinlan took Kressa’s hand and led her to a clear space, then began dancing to the seasonal music coming through the speakers from the live feed from the Visitor’s Hall, laughing and not caring about the tourists gawking at them. 

Obi-Wan and Yoda shared a look, then the knight walked over to a bench and sat carefully, making sure his passenger was comfortable on his lap. When they were both settled, Yoda snuggled back against him, then began manipulating the snowflakes. 

It started like most of their Breggle lessons. Small, simple movements were demonstrated several times, then Yoda encouraged Obi-Wan to try. Moving snowflakes was an interesting change of pace. It was initially quite easy to simply move them, to manipulate the air currents or simply move the flakes themselves, but it was very difficult to gain any kind of meaningful control, the whispy, feathery flakes were so much more delicate than sand, much less Breggle stones, that latching on to them with his mind was very challenging. Sometimes if he concentrated too hard, then would melt before his eyes and drip on him. 

“Like moving to a multi-crystal blade it is,” Yoda explained. “Too easy it is to clench up and get tense. Just snow it is.” 

Obi-Wan laughed, releasing the tension before he tried again, sticking to general movements, sending handfuls of snow moving against the wind. “Should I be moving the snow or the air?” he asked. 

“Both work do,” Yoda told him. “Depends it does what trying to do you are. Sometimes push the flakes you should. Sometimes make jets in the air you should. Sometimes a gentle breeze make you should. sometimes a combination of techniques you should use.” 

“What sorts of games do you play with the snow?” Obi-Wan asked, oblivious to the funny faces he was making as he manipulated little swarms of flakes. 

“Hmm, different games there are. Some like a snowball fight are, drive the snow at your opponent or other team you can. Some more expressive are. Make figures or pictures with the snow you can.” 

Obi-Wan snorted. “No, making pictures is something _you_ can do. I don’t think I can manage that myself.” 

Yoda raised his head to see Obi-Wan’s face. “Mmm, underestimate yourself you do, but understand I can. A learning curve there is. Start small you might, but an artist’s eye you have.” He spread his arms under Obi-Wan’s robe. “Another medium the snow is, make art, create images with it you can, but light it is, lighter than feathers it is, learn a light touch to use it you must.” 

“Have you played Breggle with feathers?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Yes, a long time ago I would. At the monastery, snow in the winter use we would, leaves in the autumn use we would, tiny flowers in the spring use we would, feathers in the summer use we would. Had a lot of feathers we did. Save them we would for many things, but also Breggle, even the scraps. Much fun with simple toys we had.” 

“That does sound like fun. What kind of pictures would you make?” 

“Hmm, show you I will, but drag out Simet we should have. A better artist he is.” Yoda tucked his head under Obi-Wan’s chin and raised his hands like a conductor at the Symphony, then began moving his hands, reaching out for the Force. The snowflakes began to move in response, no longer simply falling to the ground, but swirling and swarming together. The tiny master was building a cloud of snowflakes, a private little snowglobe held together in the Force, and it was growing larger and thicker as more snow fell into it. 

When Yoda had gathered enough whirling flakes to work with, the constantly churning mass of flakes began to move in recognizable directions, forming distinct pathways in the whole. First, Yoda formed ribbons of movement, the snowflakes moving over each other in layers, then the mass began to split into two parts, like a cell dividing. 

Obi-Wan watched, fascinated as the cloud became two and they morphed further into thick rods, almost as tall as a person. The rods began to rotate around each other, spinning and then they began to move together across the plaza, closer to where Quinlan and Kressa were still dancing. 

Quinlan did a double take and almost stepped on Kressa’s foot when the two columns of swirling snowflakes resolved into a pair of dancers, waltzing across the plaza. Kressa stopped a moment, turning to watch the figures in wonder before Vos tugged on her arm to join them in the more formal dance. Kani’s girlfriend stared, open-mouthed from where the two of them were crouching on the ground with Jitters making little castles, roads and bridges in the snow as if they were on a beach. Kani gently elbowed Jitters who squeaked in shocked delight to see the spectacle. Obi-Wan looked on, fascinated, as did the line of tourists who soon forgot they were waiting to enter the Visitor’s Hall to see _Real Jedi._

Yoda had his figures make a full circuit of Vos’s dance floor, then merged them again and had them morph into a giant hawkbat which flapped its wings, drawing laughter from the Jedi and civilian spectators alike. The hawkbat curled in on itself to become a nerf, full-sized, which stamped its foot and charged at the tourists (who whooped with laughter when the snowy beast ran right through them). It collapsed back into a ball that reformed into a long-necked, long-tailed dragon, which ‘flew’ over their heads to land back on the dance floor. Quinlan drew his saber and fired it up on low power, swinging it at the snow beast. Yoda crowed in delight and played along, the snowdragon snapping and dodging much as he had with the puppet the day before. The Jedi and tourists cheered them both on, the children rooting for the dragon as much as for the knight. After several minutes of increasingly elaborate moves by both Quinlan and the beast, his saber struck true (or the dragon ‘stumbled’ into it, it was hard to tell), and the great dragon staggered and collapsed into another whirling cloud. It backed away from Quinlan slowly, the sphere flattening into a large disk before the snowflakes were rearranged into a simple mandala that rotated around so that all the spectators could see it. It then shifted again, making a giant snowflake, which rotated again. 

The snowflake collapsed back down into a flat, whirling circle and Yoda positioned it so both the knights and the tourists had a good view, then began drawing pictures with the flakes. The first was clearly a picture of Vos, his characteristic dreadlocks swinging. The knights cracked up, though it took the tourists a moment to recognize the dragonslayer. Yoda then sketched each of the knights in turn: Jitters, Kani, Kressa, Kani’s girlfriend. Kani’s girlfriend was almost as shocked to be included as by the spectacle itself. 

Yoda glanced at Vos and Kressa as he sketched Obi-Wan’s portrait before he looked up at the knight himself. Kressa was looking at the ever-changing snow pictures with delight, but Vos was looking at Obi-Wan. Yoda couldn’t blame him. The cold air had brought out a rosiness in his cheeks, and his eyes were shining brighter than the snow as he watched Yoda’s display, his face open with wonder. The master smiled to himself. That potential was definitely still there, and its time was drawing near. 

Reluctantly, Yoda let the flakes drift out of Obi-Wan’s portrait, knowing the young man would start to feel embarrassed if it lingered too long. He decided to play to the crowd, making snow sketches of Jedi they might be familiar with: Mace Windu, Cin Drallig, the master who worked as a media representative in the Public Relations Office who like Cin would also appear on the holonews. When the crowd obviously recognized their likenesses, Yoda cast up a sketch of Simet when he was younger. There were some sounds of confusion, but a few of the older tourists recognized him immediately. 

Yoda was enjoying himself, but he knew it wasn’t a good idea to overexert himself in the cold, so he began wrapping it up. Master Si morphed into a sketch of a very large face, seen in extreme close up, slightly distorted, which then seemed to shrink down into a popular cartoon character Obi-Wan was surprised the grandmaster was familiar with. The final sketch collapsed down into the original ball, which floated over to Jitters, hovering next to his little construction site, then all of a sudden, the snow stopped whirling and silently dropped into a pile so the knights could keep building. 

Yoda leaned back into Obi-Wan with a pleased sigh. The crowd applauded wildly before resuming their walking tour. 

“Are you alright, Master?” Obi-Wan asked, tucking his arms around his lover under his robe. 

“Mmm, just fine I am. Stopped I did before cold I got.” 

“That was amazing.” Obi-Wan squeezed him very gently. “I didn’t know you could draw so well.” 

“Draw I cannot. Draw you can. Draw Simet can. Very neat penmanship I have but draw that well with my hands I cannot. But _see_ the image I can, and with the Force recreate it I can. Make these images with my hands I cannot.” 

“Well, I think you’re an amazing and wonderful artist.”

Yoda shrugged. “Last my art does not. Live on in the memory only it does. Enjoyed your art will be long after gone you are.” He glanced up at Obi-Wan again. “Hrmm, last longer than my lifetime the stained glass might, but the snow sketches will not.” 

“I’m grateful for the memory. Thank you for sharing.” Obi-Wan paused, cautious. “You did a sketch of a large face, very close up.”

Yoda rubbed his hand encouragingly under the robe. 

“Was that Brother Bodan?” he asked quietly. 

“Yes,” Yoda whispered back. “Brother Bodan that was. When very small I was, so big he seemed. His face my whole world could be. Looked like that to me he did, fill my whole sight he could, and such love in his eyes there was, such warmth in his smile there was.” 

“Thank you for showing me, Master. I know you loved him very much.” 

“Hmm, love him I still do,” Yoda sighed. “But play with us in the snow he would have not. So large he was, keep warm you think he could, but with the weak heart he had, too easy to chill him it was. Extra blankets he needed, a heater in his cell he had, keep us both warm it did. In the bitterest winter cold, let me sleep on his chest he would if my hot water bottle enough was not. Kept me warm with his giant hands he would, until big enough I was to warm myself.” He chuckled quietly. “Still sleep with a hot water bottle I do on chilly nights. Warmer you are.” 

“I have an electric blanket,” Obi-Wan confessed. “The Knight’s Tower gets cold sometimes.” 

“Have one Simet did too when injured he was. So thin he got, keep himself warm he could not.” 

“I know I should just use the Force to maintain my temperature like I’m doing now,” Obi-Wan admitted. 

“Bah, no shame there is in having help keeping warm at home there is. Keep in practice in the field well enough you do. Recuperate at home you should, stress yourself at home you should not. Feel guilty do not for not wearing yourself out.” 

Obi-Wan nodded, thoughtful. “Yes, Master.”

“Disapprove Master Jinn would have?” 

“Yes. He always said the Force kept him warm.” 

Yoda snorted. “His _size_ warm kept him. Notice you did warmer clothes he wore after injured he was?” 

“Yes,” Obi-Wan swallowed down a laugh. “I did notice. He did the same if he caught a cold or if we got run down, but he always kept the thermostat in our quarters low. Your quarters were always pleasantly warmer, even if it was only a few degrees.” 

“Hmm, a good pair we are.” 

“We are.” 

The two of them sat quietly together while Obi-Wan worked on his Snow Breggle technique. When it was clear the other knights were wrapping up their play, Obi-Wan got up so the two of them could see the little snow city Jitters had started. The young knights had made good use of the snow Yoda had gathered for them, and the little snow city sprawled over a good portion of the plaza. Jitters was grinning, his usual nervousness calmed as he had been spending time in his element. All of the young people were bright-eyed and cheerful, and Yoda was quite sure Quinlan and Kressa, and Kani and her lover would enjoy warming each other up quite soon. Obi-Wan would probably serve tea, but Yoda knew he was getting pie too, so he wasn’t disappointed. 

“That’s amazing.” Quinlan was kneeling down to get a closer look, peering under the bridges. Kani had gathered some of the dried berries that had fallen off the ornamental trees on the plaza and they had used them decorate the buildings. 

“Finished it is?” Yoda asked. 

“Yes, Master Yoda,” Jitters replied. “Enjoy it now. Like your Snow Breggle, it won’t last long.” 

“Hmm,” Yoda raised his hands, poking them out of the robe and for a moment Jitters thought the little green master was going to dash his city to oblivion. There was a quick blast of heat directed at the work, followed by a sharp, bone-deep cold. Instead of destroying the knights’ creation, the outermost layer of snow quickly melted then reformed as a shell of ice. “Last a little longer it will. Enjoy it others now can.” 

“Wow.” Jitters tapped at one of the towers, his fingertips making an audible click. “Thank you, Master Yoda.”

“Welcome you are.” He looked up at Obi-Wan. “Go back inside we can?” 

“Wait, before you go!” Kressa had been taking pics of the snow sculpture. “Can we get a group shot?” 

Yoda shared a look with Obi-Wan. “Wait I can. Want me to get out of the picture you do?” 

“No.” Kressa looked stunned. “Of course I want you in the picture.” 

One of the monks who had been working the line (and enjoying the Snow Breggle) came over and offered to take the picture so Kressa could join them. They all leaned in together, smiles bright, then thanked the monk and headed back inside to warm up. Kani and her girlfriend silently flirted as the lift took them back to their floor. Quinlan and Kressa were more subtle. Obi-Wan and Yoda noticed Jitters and shared a look just before the doors opened. Kani’s girlfriend took off down the hall as soon as the lift doors opened. Kani rolled her eyes. 

“That was a lot of fun, Quinlan, thank you,” she said before she hurried after her lover.

“More fun you will have!” Yoda called after them, setting off laughter in the remaining knights. Quinlan was standing behind Kressa and leaned forward to kiss her on the temple before he stood up straight. “Thank you, everyone. I had a lot of fun and I hope you did too.” 

“I had a great time,” Jitters seemed surprised. 

“Me too,” Obi-Wan agreed. 

“Much fun I had,” Yoda concurred.

“Come on, Snow Slayer,” Kressa slipped out of his arms, but took his hand to lead him to his room. “Let’s get out of these wet clothes.” 

Obi-Wan turned to Jitters. “We were going to go back to my room and have some fruit pie. Would you like to join us?”

Jitters grimaced. “Um, I would, but I’m actually supposed to meet up with Master Bert in half an hour and have to change.” 

“Working you like a dog he is?” Yoda asked. 

“Um, no, actually.” He looked down the hall to make sure they weren’t overheard. “I told him about our discussion about the Tower Cannons and how you thought they were really important in the Force. Apparently Master Silvanus used to say the same thing when he was battlemaster, and Master Bert felt a twinge when I told him, so he wants to test them. The tests light up the towers in different colors, so it looks like a Light Night thing, not a weapon system test. Master Bert says it’s been too long since we did it, and he put it back on the priority list.”

“That feels right in the Force,” Obi-Wan said. “But I’m sorry you have to work on the holiday.” Yoda nodded in agreement.

“Oh, I’m not,” Jitters grinned. “I love seeing the Tower Cannons, even if we’re just running tests.”

“Then fun you should have. Thank you I do. Protecting the Temple important is.” 

“Of course, Master Yoda. Thank you for playing with us. Good night.” Jitters waved, then headed off to his room. 

Obi-Wan glanced down at Yoda. “I guess it’s just you and me, Master.” 

“Good.” Yoda gave him a mischievous smirk. “More pie for me there is.” 

Obi-Wan laughed all the way back to his room. 

Once inside, he got them out of the harness and their cold weather gear, then put the kettle on and dished up slices of pie, warming them in the photon oven before adding whipped topping. When the kettle sang, he poured the water into the prepared teapot, put everything on a tray, and carried it out to the caff table. Yoda was sitting on the couch, admiring the small loop of beads from Satine’s gown. 

“A gift from Duchess Kryze these are?” he asked as he put them back on the rack.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan confirmed. “She gave them to me just before I left Mandalore.” 

“Still think of her you do.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes.” Obi-Wan did not deny it. “She was very influential to me in my formative years. But I have only heard of her on the holonews or in diplomatic circles. I haven’t communicated with her since.” 

“See her again I hope you do. A great ally to the Republic she and her people could be.” 

“Perhaps. The Force has not indicated we will see each other any time soon.” 

“Hmm, time it is yet not,” Yoda agreed, then turned his attention to the pie. “What fruit in the pie there is? Hopefully gulquots not.”

“No,” Obi-Wan laughed. “No gulquots, though those long claws of yours would have come in handy the last time I unfortunately ate them. It’s a berry medley, flash frozen at peak ripeness. Hayberry, scarlet berry and rambleberry if I’m not mistaken. And some warm spices.” 

“Mmm,” Yoda smelled the warm pie, then cut off the tip of his slice with his fork, dabbed it into the whipped nerf cream and took a bite, his delight clear on his face and in the Force. “Oh, Beautiful, spoil me you _do_!”

“Of course I do, my Dragonheart. That’s my job.” He poured them both cups of tea, then started to enjoy his own pie. “Thank you for joining us in the snow. I could tell everyone enjoyed seeing the Snow Breggle, not just me.” 

“Hmm, made Kani’s lover nervous I did,” Yoda grimaced. 

“She’ll get over it,” Obi-Wan assured him. “She was much more comfortable with you by the end of the evening.” 

“Very accepting of me your neighbors are. Grateful for that I am.” He sighed as he settled back against Obi-Wan’s chest, relishing the warmth. “Miss that I will when move you do.” 

Obi-Wan swallowed a mouthful of pie, then gave Yoda an odd look. “I’m not planning on moving anytime soon, but I don’t know about my neighbors.” He noticed Yoda’s skin still felt a little cold, so he pulled the throw off the back of the couch and draped it over Yoda’s lap. 

“Yes, moving on soon many of them will, but move far they will I think not. Still have as much time to socialize they may not. Looking at initiates some of them already are.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan sighed. “Bant is quite taken with the Nautolan girl she’s been working with. It would be good for her to have an apprentice who can be comfortable in her quarters.” He resumed eating his pie. “I think Marni might have a potential padawan too.”

“Yes, coming along nicely that is.” Yoda sat up and used the Force to send his empty plate back to the caff table without getting out from under the blanket. “Knight Dietrich on the fence is too. Need a little push I think he will.” 

“I _thought_ I sensed something, but I wasn’t sure. Who is the Force guiding him to?” 

“Gobi.” Yoda sipped his tea. “Needs a firm hand that boy does.” 

Obi-Wan snorted. “The one who despises Soresu?”

“Yes,” Yoda looked up at him. “Noticed that you did?” 

“It was hard to miss,” Obi-Wan chuckled. “Dietrich seems to prefer Shien, so at least he won’t be bored.” 

“Hmm, boring you are not.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “I’m more interesting to grownups. I can accept that.” He stretched, then settled back into the couch. “But that’s my neighbors. Why do you think I’ll be moving?” His hand snaked down to rest on Yoda’s chest, his skin warm against his lover. 

Yoda patted Obi-Wan’s hand. “Know I do that made a home and a place for yourself here you have, that comfortable and happy you are, that good friends you have made. Good for you this neighborhood has been. But stay here forever you will not.” He sipped his tea, pleased to be all snuggled up in his lover’s arms. “Very nice your apartment is, but have room for a padawan here you do not.”

Obi-Wan froze, silent.

Yoda looked at him over his shoulder in concern. 

“What?” Obi-Wan choked out, half-sputtering. 

“Need their own room your padawan will. Not enough space here there is. Sleep in the coat closet they cannot.” 

Obi-Wan was staring at him, incredulous. “Master, why would any initiate want _me_ for a master? Why would you think _I_ would take a padawan?” 

Yoda gave him an unimpressed look. “Of course take a padawan you should,” Yoda told him. “A fine knight you are. Grow secure and confident in your abilities you have. Addressed the lapses Qui-Gon left in your training we have. Ready to train an apprentice soon you will be. Need their own room they will.” 

“But I’m not skilled or experienced enough for that,” Obi-Wan protested. 

“Had the skills to train a padawan you did when knighted you were,” Yoda scoffed. “Have the experience and emotional balance you would need you did not. Time you have had to mature, to grow, the self to develop, a support network to grow, and new skills and experiences you have had. Being forced into training a student you were not as Master Jinn tried to do. Time you have had to heal, grow and learn about yourself, without another trying to guide.” Yoda sighed. “Warn you I must, harder to find time for sex it will be when have an apprentice you do.” 

Obi-Wan stared at him, his face pale. “I didn’t think you would want me to. You never said anything about it.” 

“Pressure you I would not,” Yoda tugged on Obi-Wan’s other hand until the knight wrapped both hands around him. “Ready you were not. Ready you _are_ not. But soon, hmm, ready you will be.” 

“I thought I’d never be ready. I thought you agreed.” 

“Hmm, when first knighted you were, when still learning all the ways that wronged you Master Jinn had, I agree, being ready impossible must have seemed. But grow so much you have, learned so much you have, become rooted deep in the Force you have, balance you have found. Impossible now it is not. Very possible it is. Coming the time soon is. Enjoy this time you have, rich but fleeting it is. But fear the change not. Rich in experiences are the times to come.” 

“I still don’t feel ready. At all.” 

“Neither does Vos, but coming his time is too.” 

Obi-Wan sipped at his tea to moisten his dry mouth, then put it back down before he dropped it. “What about S-training? You know I haven’t had that.” 

“Covered all the important parts we did. Need to train your padawan in that you do not. Be kind and supportive you must. Also, still children new padawans are.” He stroked Obi-Wan’s fingers with his own. “Hmm, still have a few years to practice we do.” 

Obi-Wan grimaced, rather than laugh, but he was calming down. “I need to talk to Vygor about this,” he sighed. “I don’t agree this is a good idea.” 

“Yes, discuss it with Vygor you should. Help you work through your fears he will. Pressure you he will not. Objective he is.” 

“I’m sorry, Master. I never really considered it as a possibility. I don’t think I have enough patience, or Force strength, or social skills. And most of the initiates think I’m boring and stuffy.” He shrugged. “I _am_ boring and stuffy.” 

“All of them think this not.” 

“I can’t think of any of them who had seemed remotely interested in me as a person.” He chuckled weakly. “The only one I can think of that knows me at all is Anakin, and he only talks to me because we knew each other before he became an initiate.” 

Yoda said nothing for a long moment. “When right the time is, tell you the Force will. If need a push you do, do that I will.” 

“This scares me, Master.” 

“Hmm, normal that is.” 

“I don’t feel I can do this.” 

“Hrmm, to feel that way normal is too.” 

“I don’t want to fail, Master.” 

“Know this I do. That’s why warn you I have. Time to start getting ready it is. Time it will be soon, closer it is than think you do.” 

Obi-Wan glanced at the ornament rack on the table. “I’m going to need a bigger rack.”

Yoda chuckled, leaning into him, admiring the lights playing off the tiny little grandmasters. “A better attitude that is.” He snuggled closer. “Need a bigger bed you will too. Nightmares young padawans get.” 

“I remember,” Obi-Wan sighed. His dreams had been turbulent, but he had generally faced them alone. This was probably not wholly normal if Yoda was discussing his bed.

“Looking forward to Light Night with my new great-great-grandpadawan I am.”

Obi-Wan picked up his tea again and downed the rest. “That’s terrifying. I need more pie.” 

Yoda have him a hopeful look. “Make that two you can?” 

Obi-Wan kissed the top of his head. “Yes, Master.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: Human/alien kissing, cuddling, making out and sex talk. Alien/alien relationships (when the two aliens are different species). Some discussion of sexual relationships and karaoke.**
> 
> For anyone traumatized, I'm sorry, I did try to warn you. 
> 
> So, are we pleased to see how Obi-Wan has made progress in his romantic relationship? Did you enjoy the Snow Breggle? Any thoughts on Yoda's little bomb?


End file.
